#my never ending agony is having money but not having a way to order things with my own money

[bbeeohazardd]

i NEED more acrylic charm keychains

[charliespringverse]

iwbft – ghosted: a Bonus brief summary of my annotations

all highlighted quotes: 91

· ouch/ow/owie: 5

· real/felt/relatable/so true: 4

· ☹/☹☹/☹☹☹: 4

She said Shrek and Fiona, and then told me she never wanted to be famous. — the double life thing babeyy

“Jimmy,” he heaves out, and I feel a stab of panic in my chest. — just hearing ur friend's name shouldn't be enough to trigger panic unless u already know something is Very Wrong . at which point i feel they should've pushed for further help instead of finishing out the tour

“We can’t leave Jimmy out.” Lister stands shirtless in the middle of the room and spins around on the spot. — fuck yeah trio tingz :')

It almost makes me laugh how polite and casual Rowan manages to sound, despite the fact that our best friend is missing. — IT'S A DEFENCE MECHANISM!!!!!

I only wonder how much of it is my fault. — none of it bb dw :( he is Not With It enough to be thinking abt anyone but himself rn

“But I can’t drive.” Rowan stares at me. “I thought you had lessons.” “I only had three lessons.” And then I got bored, or tired, or busy, or all three. — ... adhd lister btw

Why would he do this to us? To me? — i think jimmy's dependence on rowan is more reciprocated than he realises

If we weren’t in a famous band together, I’m not sure whether we’d still be friends now. — this rly hurts my feelings and it hurts more bc he isn't necessarily Wrong i don't think

“You do know I can play eight instruments, right?” “But not the drums, huh.” Rowan folds his arms. “You will never let me live that down.” — LISTERROWAN BESTIEISM BANTER BABEY

“But you think I’m an idiot who has nothing intelligent to say.” “I don’t think that.” “Yeah, you do. You’d much rather I was the one who was missing right now.” Rowan doesn’t respond. We both know I’m right. — WELL MAYBE BUT U DON'T HAVE TO TELL ME THAT. I DON'T WANNA THINK ABOUT IT.

“I wish you wouldn’t—” he begins but is cut off when his phone buzzes. — i hate that the phone gave him a get out from being open n sincere w lister :^(

“That’s a Southeastern Railway train,” says Lister instantly. “You can tell by the seat patterns.” — [freddie mercury voice] auuuuutism auuuuutism i want to ride my autism (note: this is summat @to-grill-a-mockingbird says and now i can never get it out of my head)

“He needs a night off.” "A night off from … what? His entire life?” Piero chuckles. “Yes.” — i mean ouch but also Yeah

“That was good news. He hasn’t been kidnapped. He just needed a nap.” “Can you not make a joke about this situation for like one fucking minute, Allister?” — could be the tism on my end but i didn't take this as a joke . jimmy needs a break, piero told them that, lister has seen enough to agree . (also: lister has Also contemplated running away so it makes sense he's less eager to bring jimmy back to ldn bc he doesn't see it as fixing the problem the same way rowan does)

Why do I always have to be the serious one? The worrier? Why can’t someone else do the worrying sometimes? — other ppl Do worry . but not so much that it becomes its own problem worthy of therapy

We save the deep chats for Jimmy. Jimmy doesn’t open up very often, but you know Jimmy will listen if you have something serious to say. — vs jimmy's wednesday narration 'we don't ever talk about deep stuff, me and lister bird' :((((

This whole bedroom is something out of twelve-year-old Lister’s wildest fantasies—it’s spacious and modern, with one floor-to-ceiling window, dark walls, LED lights behind the headboard, and a fifty-inch TV. — what u lack as a child you seek as an adult etc etc (space, material possessions, money)

Rowan’s room is always tidy. He puts away his clothes at the end of the day and makes his bed in the mornings. — always craving order & control :(

Rowan loves to criticize me about buying unnecessary things, but all I need to do is remind him of the velvet chaise longue in his bedroom that I’m pretty sure nobody has ever sat on. — comedy gold amidst the agony

He blinks at me. “You remembered my weird order?” — remembering ppl's orders is a love language

“Can I … ?” I shuffle on my feet. “Can we eat it in here?” — i hate that he's so uncertain n lacking in confidence while asking one of his best friends

I’ve always been deeply annoyed by what a high metabolism he has. I work out three times a week with a personal trainer just to stay toned. — rowan's fixation on body image makes me ✨nervous✨

“You were reading?” I ask, eyebrow raised. Lister narrows his eyes at me. “Wow, hilarious." — i stand by my 'lister loves to read but nobody ever assumes that or believes him bc their perception is skewed by him not gelling with academia' hc

“But don’t you see how that’s, like, still very fucked-up behavior, Rowan?” — GET HER JADE

And it’s scary that he thinks he’s completely fine. That this level of stress is normal. That he’s a functioning, well-adjusted human who is able to cope with being one of the most famous musicians in the world with absolutely no help or support whatsoever. — yeah :((

“You kissed him,” Rowan says. “So he decided to climb out of a window and run away.” “I mean, yeah, in summary.” — but no, realistically

Rowan wipes a tear from his eye. “Oh my God. So funny.” He’s properly pissing me off now. — give him a break roseph he's already mentally ill u don't have to embarrass him as well (/lh)

It’s a question I’ve asked myself every day for years. A question I’ve answered in daydreams, in nightmares, in conversations with myself in the shower. A question I still don’t know the answer to, and maybe never will. A question that doesn’t need an answer, now that I know for sure that Jimmy doesn’t like me back. — aaaaaagonyyyyy beyond power of speeeeeeech when the thing that u want is the only thing out of ur reach

“But … the circumstances of our relationship are so challenging. We live in very, very different worlds, and our lives are on very different trajectories. And sometimes I think relationships just can’t survive that.” — JUSTICE FOR LAIMONDI :(

Jimmy fell asleep almost immediately, a feat that would become less and less common as we all got older, but Lister and I couldn’t sleep because we were too busy watching funny YouTube videos on my phone, muffling laughs into our hands, trying not to wake anyone up. — BABY ARK MY CHILDREN

[knifesxedge]

poppy, petunia, and laurel for the wc asks?

Poppy: What’s one of your biggest headcanons for the series?

OH definitely my conceit that mistyfoot/star is like. convinced she is destined to lose everything and everyone she’s ever loved. and it keeps happening so she keeps getting proven right. + the idea that she was basically given up by her mom so she could become leader and feels bitter about that and YET she continues to Be Like Her Mother, she is SO MUCH like her mom in so many ways, and ultimately she ends up going down the same path as her mom. and all of that comes together to conclude that she is Doomed By the Narrative and one of the most tragic characters in warriors. i could elaborate on this more because i have SO many thoughts about mistyfoot & she’s my favorite character but i’ll leave it there so this doesn’t get crazy long and it involves a lot of intertwining headcanons about her life. okay

Petunia: Which arc is your favorite? Which is your least favorite?

i have pretty standard opinions on this (best arc is arc 1, worst arc is currently standing at omen of the stars but asc is giving it a run for its money) so i’ll throw in my two cents that i think warriors as a series should have ended with arc 1

Laurel: If you could write the books, what changes would you make?

hoooooooly shit okay. there are almost an infinity of changes but i’ll try to hit the big ones, in no particular order:

1. LGBT representation (they would never do this i am aware that is why i would be implementing it myself)

2. firepaw has a crush on spottedleaf but she never sees him as anything more than (affectionately) a little brother, which is why she ends up as a starclan guide for him going forward

3. mistyfoot & leopardfur toxic yuri relationship is integral to the narrative

4. brambleclaw and squirrelflight are written well and are Cute. sandstorm and firestar of the second arc. they have a rough moment where brambleclaw feels lied to post-hollyleaf’s parentage reveal at the gathering but they get through it. sigh

5. the tribe does not exist was never written into the books and is not relevant. God.

6. general fixing of misogyny and abusive relationships UNLESS that’s vital to the narrative. but it HAS to be purposeful in the way it is not currently

7. that one headcanon about tawnypelt having brambleclaw’s deputy arc from TNP

8. mothwing as the three’s sire like SORRY i know it’s cliche for me to say that but genuinely fuck crowfeather (speaking of Fuck Crowfeather nightcloud gets a wife but that’s not particularly story relevant)

9. the series ends after omen of the stars. oots has decent bones at least. sorry to sparkpelt fans/twigbranch fans/frostpaw fans but i think all the books after that arc are stinky poo poo garbage and oots is like the OBVIOUS ending point. this would mean i would have to sacrifice the last little bit of mistystar’s Tragic Character Arc but that’s a sacrifice i’m willing to make

10. NO dotc. garbage trash dumpster fire of a book series. DIE (we can see the founders in starclan and get a sense of their personalities and such or whatever but that book series is agony to read. sorry dotc fans)

going to leave it there because there’s an insane amount of things i could fix with this series because after the first arc it becomes Genuinely Bad but hmu if you want the director’s cut

thank you thank you marz!!!! 💕💕💕💕💕

send me flower warrior cats asks from here!!

[serpentide]

i know that i've already said that my main verse here will be the more general one for the sake of crossovers, but i'm thinking about serpent's canon route and ending in the original game and honestly ? while i do understand the kind of message that it wants to convey ( to serpent, especially ) i think that it does not serve a healthy purpose in the slightest. telling serpent that she can and will be happy one day in spite of everything that she has gone through is indeed valid, but telling her that in order to be happy then she must learn to love others + learn how to be loved by others is not what she needs, in my opinion. even in the canon dialogue during her ending, we see the chief asking others to tell serpent that they like / care about her just so she will stop causing problems to others.

THIS IS ABSOLUTELY NOT WHAT SERPENT NEEDS. as someone who is prone to obsessing over things ( it was her obsession with the abstract concept of happiness that has caused all of this mess in the first place, after all ) , telling her that she can finally be happy if others love her is just going to further twist and distort the way she looks at things + the way she perceives herself + the way she approaches others when it comes to interpersonal relationships. of course, serpent can experience true happiness through another's person love BUT NOT LIKE THIS, not with others just telling her what she wants to hear so she won't cause problems to them.

i believe that in order to be truly happy, serpent must heal first. her obsession with ambrosia and with "forgetting all the bad memories" directly stems from the fact that her life has been nothing more than a long string of horrors, one interwoven with the other, and she wishes she could forget about those too even if she never outwardly says so. this is why she offers the drug to others, not because she wants to just wound them or earn money through it, but because she empathizes in a twisted way with other people's agonies and traumas [ ... ] because even if the ambrosia had no effect on her, then maybe it will have effect on someone else.

serpent does not need second - hand affection to be happy. serpent needs to heal, because only once she's capable of looking at the world through her own eyes and no longer through the grotesque lenses of her traumas, she will finally be able to find not only her little place in the world but also someone to share that place ( and thus her newfound happiness ) with.

[mmilkbreadd]

—oh my god, they were roommates—

Masterlist | Next

╰┈➤ looking for a roommate.

╰┈➤ any gender, any age.

╰┈➤ contact tsukishima kei for more info.

[part one]

pairing: tsukishima x roomate!reader

genre: fluff.

word count: 1k

Tsukishima Kei never imagined he would be bankrupt at such a young age. Working in the museum and being a professional player in Sengai Frogs should be enough —or that was what he thought. But now, he found himself posting an ad online looking for a roommate to help him pay his monstrous rent.

Though he first considered his friend Yamaguchi instead of a stranger, he already had a flat of his own. So searching online was the only option left.

Tsukishima had interviewed a couple of applicants before you. However, they were not “ideal enough” to share an apartment with him —he was a perfectionist regarding tidiness and order. Therefore, whoever didn't match those conditions was not considered a viable option.

Still, you were not the exception.

The appointment was in a cafe near Tsukishima's apartment. You arrived ten minutes late because you got lost on the way there. Your hair was a mess, your clothes were soaking wet, and your shoes dirty, all caused by the great storm outside. Kei looked at you from head to toe, wondering how the hell you forgot to bring an umbrella with the awful weather Japan had these last few weeks.

“You're late,” he said. “I don't like tardiness.”

You quickly sped to the table and sat across from him, offering a huge smile —despite his dry words and imposing demeanor, you still hoped he would choose you.

“I'm sorry,” you replied. “I got lost coming here. I'm new to town, and the heavy rain wasn't helping at all!”

Tsukishima sighed, wishing Yamaguchi's flat flooded, so he could just move with him and save him from this agony. That was a rather self-centered thought, to be honest, but he couldn't care less about it.

“You are (L/N), (Y/N), I assume,” he said while glimpsing at some papers. “Your resume seems just fine, but it's not enough. And, I have to say, my first impression of you is not the best.”

You frowned at his words. At first sight, you saw that he wasn't the kindest and gentle, but you thought it was just a facade to scare the creepy applicants. You were not like that, though, so you realized he was always acted like you suspected —or at least that was your initial guess about him.

You could say both first impressions of each other weren't the best.

Tsukishima started questioning you about your life and routines, each question getting sassier and dense. You expected inquiries like “how's your family like?”, “What are your habits? or even “What do you like doing for fun?”. But instead, he asked you if you used the bathroom as slow as you arrive at meetings, if you liked strawberry shortcakes, and if you enjoyed dinosaurs' documentaries... Tsukishima Kei was definitely unique. And your hope had entirely disappeared as well.

The tension between the two of you seemed to increase at every strange question. Tsukishima's serious demeanor never left his face. You thought he looked pretty handsome, considering he hadn't smiled during the entire time you were with him. Yet you still succeed in observing him, concluding that he was indeed beautiful.

Tsukishima pushed his glasses up from time to time, and you noticed his large fingers. Blonde, sarcastic, and a bit of a douche —just your type. His words sounded bold and very blunt. Something about his rude attitude made him appealing as well.

Only imagine how his house looked. You bet it was cleaner than anywhere you've ever been, and really empty too.

When the interview ended, he thanked you for coming and let you go without any word left. Before retiring, you tried analyzing his facial expressions again, yet nothing on his appearance told you what he was thinking at that moment.

“You could be nicer next time, you know,”you said after you put on your coat. Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, looking up from his glasses. “Maybe it'll be easier for you to find a suitable roommate. As you won't scare most of them away.”

Before he could answer, you rushed to the door and left, smiling to yourself. His snarky nature wouldn't tear you down in any way possible. You were strong, confident, and independent. Finding an apartment was easy for you, so a rude guy like him wouldn't ruin your chances nor confidence —even if you were a broke college student on a budget.

Narrowing his eyes as he watched you leave while thinking of a comeback to your words. Although he couldn't find one good enough.

Tsukishima was a little dazzled. None of the other candidates had stood up for themselves before. Maybe, after all, you weren't a bad option to pick. However, he wasn't going to tell you how impressive your response was. He knew you knew what you did. And he hated that, but he still had a few people to interview, so there was a chance someone would be better than you —if that was in any way possible.

Did he find you attractive? Possibly. That was the first question that popped in Tsukishima's mind when you first ran into the place. Even if you were a disaster because of the rain, you looked stunning anyway. You had managed to charm him, though he would never admit it. Your smile confused him, as he wasn't used to people being nice to him —mostly because he wasn't nice to them either.

Tsukishima couldn't take you out of his mind for the entire evening.

As days passed, you still struggled to find a place to stay, and motels weren't the best spot to sleep once you were there for weeks. Your back hurt, your spirit was a bit crushed, and money was slightly running out.

Perhaps it was the Universe, maybe it was the gods above, but a text message changed everything.

Unknown: This is Tsukishima Kei. You can move in this week.

Even on message, he was brief. Though you didn't care, finally, things were coming together for you.

Tsukishima Kei was going to be your roommate.

Crazy, right?

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Five / Double Shot on Ice

W/C: 3.7k

Warnings: physical fighting, mentions of blood/bruises/injuries, pepper spray being used, language ofc, tenderness to the extreme

A/N: hi this is going to be really harsh then very tender, so I hope you like that! I really love this series and I can’t wait for you guys to keep reading :)

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

“Javi!” you shriek as Tie Guy gets up, head still spinning but ready to fight. No, you do not want this. Javier defending you was one thing, but you can’t let him be harmed.

Grabbing the man you now consider your boyfriend by the arm, you pull him from the bar, rushing outside into the chilly D.C. night. You wrap your coat tighter around yourself, looking at the man with the most puzzled expression your face can possibly make.

Tie Guy has followed you out. Fuck. The one goddamn night you wear heels, you mentally shame yourself. Even though they aren’t very tall, there’s no way in hell you can run in them. “Let it go, let it go,” you mutter under your breath, begging Javi and silently praying the other man drops it too. It doesn’t work. Tie Guy stalks after you, following you into the parking garage nearby. He’s dead set on Javier. Your plea works until Tie Guy shouts out.

“Hey, you bastard! I’m not finished with you!” he shouts.

Javier spins and drops your arm, handing you his coat and stalking towards the man.

“You wanna be a disrespectful fucking bastard, I’ll keep beating your ass,” Javier threatens.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Tie Guy huffs. “She’s got you so fucking whipped man,” he laughs, pulling Javier right into his trap. “She’s not even-”

Javi steps closer to throw another hit. The man beats him to the punch, quite literally. His fist connects with Javier’s eye, and he stumbles backwards, falling onto his rear end in the gravel. “Yeah, tough guy,” Tie Guy crows, but Javier gets up quickly.

Whitney, your car, is parked right there. You can’t bear to look away, but you know what to do. You run to the car, sliding into the passenger seat and rummaging through your glovebox. While you’re running, you hear another smack: Javier is on the ground, clutching what was his good eye until he got punched in it. Fuck.

Javier is a trained fighter. Tie Guy really doesn’t stand a chance when Javier gets up, rage and adrenaline coursing through his veins from taking two hits to the face. More fists fly, nothing connecting with the proper target. Nails find skin, scratches and scrapes on arms and faces. Javi kicks him in the gut and he falls down but gets up before Javi can keep going,

The timing is perfect. Tie Guy has his back to you, and Javier is a yard or two away from the man. You just need his attention-

In the heat of the moment, you think of the only thing you can throw: you slip off one of your heels and wail it at the man. It connects with the side of his head, which he immediately claps a hand over in the pain. “What the fuck-” Timing is everything, and you have the power. Lifting the lid and releasing the trigger, you pepper spray the man right in the eyes. He wails in agony, falling to his knees and clutching at the excruciating eyeballs.

You nod to your car, and throw the other shoe at the man for good measure. It connects with his balding head, he falls flat on the ground, and you start running towards Whitney in your now bare feet. Javier follows, immediately sliding into the passenger seat.

Now is the time you wish you’d put a little more money into your ride. Whitney sputters to life after a few panicked seconds, and you slam on the gas once your car is shifted in reverse, wasting no time in getting the fuck out of that parking garage. Once you’re on the road, Tie Guy now up on his knees in pain in your rearview mirror, you sigh in relief and shudder as the adrenaline dies down.

Javier’s head is swimming, probably from the intense hit he took to it. He looks over at you, in your disheveled formal gear, and can’t help but laugh. “Damn, abejita. Thought you were just a fluffy little bumblebee. Didn’t know you could sting.”

You giggle from the adrenaline and brake at a stop sign, pulling Javier’s face to yours and kissing him hard. His lip is split, you can taste the blood, but he doesn’t wince in pain so you kiss him harder for a minute, putting all of your energy and gratitude and passion for the man into it.

When he breaks away, he looks down. “You’re driving barefoot.”

“That’s the first fucking thing you have to say to me?” You laugh, though it’s far from offended. You shake your head as the consequences of earlier start to sink in, driving towards Javier’s hotel. “Javi, what the fuck? You didn’t need to throw the first punch, oh my God. He was a douche but you could’ve taken a much different path.”

“It’s the only way he’d learn his lesson,” Javier grumbles, his adrenaline-enhanced state of laughter turning to one of annoyance at being chided. Your expression matches his, wanting to fight back but not wanting to start anything. You just leave it be.

You gasp in realization of something else and go quiet for a moment. You look over at him, the frown breaking, and giggle a little. “Oh fuck. We didn’t pay the tab.”

Javier’s stoic expression breaks and he laughs a little too, the adrenaline still rushing through his system. “We just can’t go back there ever again, I guess.”

“That’s your answer?” You laugh as you look over at him, your heart in your eyes. “God, I love you,” you laugh off-handedly, then a shiver runs through your body, eyes practically bulging from your head. “Oh, fuck,” you murmur, looking over at him with furrowed brows. “I, uh, I didn’t mean to say that.”

Javier just smiles a little, taking one of your hand and tracing your knuckles with his thumb. “It’s okay.”

“I- well, and you don’t have to say it back by the way,” you stumble. “I know I haven’t known you that long, and we’re barely together already, but just everything tonight has me overwhelmed and I’ve never felt that much adrenaline, oh god, I think I meant it but you don’t have to say it back if you don’t want to,” you ramble again and continue, “just… yeah.”

Javier reaches over and presses a kiss to your forehead. “It’s okay,” he repeats and nods, his hand on the back of your head and his fingers softly sinking into your hair in a way that makes you whimper. When he pulls back, he finds your eyes to be round and watering. “What’s wrong?” he asks, brows lowering over those warm eyes.

You gulp, voice quivering when you speak. “That was embarrassing,” you admit with a watery laugh, the tears running down your face. “And that whole thing was so scary, I’ve never even had to use pepper spray, and he beat you up, and-”

“Pull over,” Javier orders and you comply, parking in a nearby spot in front of a store that’s long closed for the night. Your eyes are still slowly dripping and Javier takes both of your hands in his. “You did so good. You did the best possible thing, and I didn’t even have to tell you. Most people wouldn’t have done that.”

You pull one of your hands back and wipe your nose. “That was my favorite pair of shoes.”

It makes Javi crack a smile and a small laugh. “It’s my fault. I’ll buy you a new pair.”

“It’s not your fault,” you backtrack, voice still squeaky from the tears dripping from your eyes. You take in just how rough he looks, arms scratched, lip bleeding, eyes red and bloodshot and likely to bear the brunt of it in the morning. “Javi,” you coo, cupping his face. “Fuck. You’re really beat up.”

He shakes his head. “This is nothing, little bee,” he mumbles and kisses your knuckles. “What matters is that you’re okay. Come on, let’s get to the hotel and get my stuff then I’ll drive the rest of the way.”

With a sniffle, you nod and kiss him one more time. “I think I meant it,” you whisper to him, and he offers you a soft smile before returning back to sitting forward and buckling back into the seat, like you’d insisted he do earlier. He doesn’t ask what you meant. He knows.

On the drive back to Georgetown, Javier holds your hand, and you trace over the scratches and bruises on his knuckles when your eyes aren’t on the road. Traffic out of the city is slow, as nights usually are around this time, everyone flocking in to see the heart of the capital city. Your adrenaline rush is coming down, starting to make you tired and chilly. You look over at Javier and consider that he didn’t say he loved you back. It’s not fair of you, you shake your head and turn back. It’s been a week of knowing each other. He doesn’t have to, especially if he doesn’t feel that way.

The anxiety of Javier never responding to it makes the anxiety swirl through your brain as you drive. From the place you pulled over, it doesn’t take very long for you to arrive at the grand hotel, the warm lights casting a golden glow and radiating warmth. The adrenaline has faded by now, leaving you worn and warm-hearted as the consequences sink in: Javier would fight for you. You’re starting to suspect there aren’t many things he wouldn’t do for you.

You kiss his cheek before he gets out of the car. “I’ll park over here,” you tell him and point to a spot near the door. “That way, when you’re done checking out, you can just dump your stuff in here and we’ll head to my place.

Javier turns your face to his and kisses you softly, his mouth drawn up in a soft smile. “Sounds good, abejita.” He gets out of the car and walks inside, leaving his suit jacket in the car. He loosens his tie as he walks in, the muscles of his back and shoulders visible through his dress shirt. You could get used to that view.

It takes him a little bit; of course it does, you rationalize, since he has to pack up and check out. You rest your head against the window and lock your car, letting your eyes fall shut. You’re not sure if you drift off or not, just that it’s not much longer before there’s a tap at your car window.

You startle as you sit up and open your eyes, finding Javier there, holding his bag and suitcase. You unlock the car and get out, letting him take the driver’s side. He kisses you on the head before putting his things in the backseat. You walk around and get into the passenger side, the ground wet and cold from the December snow melting beneath your bare feet.

The car is cozy and warm compared to the chilly air you just spent a moment in. You gaze over at Javier lovingly as he takes control of the car, backing out of the spot. “You gotta tell me where to go,” he reminds you as he pulls out of the hotel parking lot.

Nuzzling in against the car door, you tell him the directions to your apartment, shivering intermittently. Your eyes slip shut and your arms squeeze around yourself tighter before Javier chuckles. “Here,” he says, reaching into the back and getting his suit jacket, draping it over you. It’s still warm from his body heat, a little muddy on the back from when Tie Guy knocked him down, but it’s the coziest thing you’ve ever had the pleasure of wearing. “Thanks, Hercules,” you tease as you rest your head against the chilled glass.

“Hercules?” He laughs.

“Self-explanatory,” you smile sleepily and shrug beneath his jacket.

-

When you’re finally at your apartment, you open the door a bit nervously then show him the living room, directly connected to the door. “Voila,” you chuckle and wrap his jacket tighter around yourself, walking inside. “Bathroom and bedroom are to the right, kitchen’s right there,” you inform him, turning to him and shrugging. “Sorry it’s kind of a mess.”

It’s far from a mess, Javier thinks, nothing compared to his place or Steve’s that week he went on a bender. There are houseplants under every window, and the decor is warm and inviting. It’s definitely very you. “It’s not,” he chuckles, setting his briefcase on the couch.

“It is by my standards,” you shrug. “Why don’t we get changed then we’ll ice your eyes?”

“My eyes are fine,” he insists.

“I don’t give a shit if you think they’re fine,” you shrug and pat his cheek lightly, wandering towards your bathroom. Javier follows you in the same direction but goes into your bedroom to change. Inside, you take off your makeup and adjust your hair in the mirror. You change into pajamas and sigh at your exhausted-looking reflection.

When you’re done, you walk into the bedroom to find Javier in sweatpants and shirtless, his back to you. His muscles are defined, moving as he rummages through his bag of belongings. God, he’s strong, and it makes you shiver a little at the sight. You place a hand between his shoulder blades, marveling at the softness and warmth of the skin there.

He jumps at the feeling but melts into your touch, especially as your nimble hands knead his back softly. He sighs at the feeling, cracking his neck and earning a few pops. You press a kiss to the nape of his neck and you can feel his body shiver beneath you.

You swallow hard, wanting to say something but not knowing what. The moment is soft and quiet, and you’re honestly surprised Javier hasn’t made a dry joke yet. That’s how you know he must like you touching him, and it makes you bite your lip to hide a smile. You kiss down his spine until you land between his shoulder blades, then break away and sigh. “I’m going to go get an ice pack for your eyes,” you inform him and give his worn shoulders one last squeeze.

You turn to leave, but Javier catches your waist, turning around himself. He kisses you softly, his hand cupping the side of your face. The heels of his hands are scraped, and you touch your face when he pulls away to find he transferred a little blood there. It doesn’t matter; it was worth it. “And some bandages and rubbing alcohol,” you chuckle, kissing his palm beneath his fingers, making your way to the kitchen.

To access the top shelf, you have to get on your knees on the counter. That’s where Javier finds you a few moments later, grabbing the medical supplies. You turn and sit on the edge, setting the medical supplies to one side while the ice pack sits at the other. You smile as you see him, sighing at the warmth he radiates in his white t-shirt and sweats. “Come here,” you beckon out in a quiet voice, like there’s some soft reverence now that you don’t dare to break.

Javier spreads your legs and stands between them, a hand resting on each thigh. He steals a kiss before you look away to grab the cotton swabs and hydrogen peroxide. You pour a little on the puff and Javier winces at the smell, all too familiar with the sting that’s sure to follow. He lifts his hand without you needing to ask, and you rub the wound softly.

“Fuck,” he grunts, and it’s gone as soon as it started.

“It’s not so bad,” you tease and wipe his other palm, earning a similar reaction. “Do you need me to kiss it better?” you offer sarcastically, raising one eyebrow at him.

“Yes please,” he smirks, and you cup his face as you kiss him, his warm body pressing flush to yours. God, you didn’t realize how cold your apartment was before just now, when the heat Javier seems to endlessly radiate seeps into every ounce of your being.

When you break away, you swallow and look away, desperately avoiding the longing for him you can already feel growing as an ache in your gut. “Bandage time. Give me one,” you say, holding your hand out for his. He rests his palm on yours and you unwrap a thick patch bandage, placing it over the scraped heel. You repeat the motion on the other hand, then kiss his knuckles. “Good as new, right?”

He nods softly, kissing you between your eyebrows. “Thank you, abejita.”

“Any time. Well, no. I don’t want you in any more fights,” you shake your head and laugh, looking down at his thick and worn hands. “Let’s go rest on the couch and ice your face,” you smile, pushing him back and sliding off the counter’s edge.

“I could use you in Colombia with me,” he chuckles, grabbing the ice packs as you set the supplies aside. “You make a much better nurse than the medics we have at the embassy.”

You blow a raspberry into the air, chuckling at the notion. “Just bring me with,” you laugh, leading him to the couch.

Javier takes one of your hands. “I would, but it would be no good for you down there. Too much danger, especially without our protection.”

“And what would that protection entail?” You ask sarcastically, playing into the joke before plopping on the couch.

Javier follows, draping an arm across your shoulder. “I’d have to ask my partner; he’s married, and I’m clearly not so I don’t know. I do know that you would be in harm’s way if I brought you just as my girlfriend. The narcos will fuck around with guys��� girlfriends, their flings, use them as bargaining chips. I’ve seen it happen. But the wives, they get the protection. If a narco fucked with them, they’d be good as dead.”

You nod along, listening. It’s kind of interesting. You have to admit, you don’t know much about what’s going on down there, but it’s fascinating to learn. You’ve always wanted to travel, especially to Latin or South America since you’d studied Spanish all through high school and your time at Georgetown. “Then you’ll have to sign me on as a nurse with the DEA, huh?” You flirt and kiss the tip of his nose.

He doesn’t answer, just laughs, lying back on the couch. “Here,” you say and tell him the ice pack, which he drapes over his eyes.

You snuggle into his side, enjoying the slow and steady heartbeat through his white t-shirt. “You know, we could always just ice it in bed,” you mumble, pressing a kiss to his collarbone innocently, lightly.

He frowns. You can see it. “I’m sleeping on the couch while I’m here.”

“What? You are not sleeping on a couch for a month, Javier,” you insist and sit upright, separating yourself from him.

“I’ve known you for four days. You have your space, and this is it. I’m with you all the damn time anyway. I want to give you some room.” Javier’s words are true, but he really has a deeper meaning. He wants to fuck you. He wants to fucking ravage you until you’re screaming his name, he really does, but the gentleman deep inside tells him he needs to wait. It tells him that he doesn’t want to ruin this, the relationship you’re having. It’s December: almost a new year. He just got a new job. He’s going to be a new Javier. And if he sleeps in the same bed as you, that’s going to make things a hell of a lot more difficult.

The words he speaks are valid. You nod, though you’re only planning to let it slide for one night. “Okay.” You recline back again, against Javier’s chest and into his arms.

Javi knows the couch won’t be comfortable. He’s slept on plenty of them in his day. But if that’s what it will take for the relationship to stay like this, soft and light, he’ll take it. He’d sleep on a couch every night for the rest of his life if it means he gets to have you.

The clock creeps ever closer to midnight as you and Javier lie there, in each other’s arms, his eyes covered by the ice pack. You yawn and Javi realizes the ice pack has turned to slightly chilled water. “I think it’s time for bed, little bee,” he mumbles and sits up, opening his eyes again to find the moonlit apartment, blue with the night’s only light.

You nod and stand, stretching. Javier spots the small strip of skin evident between your top and bottoms, how soft and warm it looks, how much he’d like to kiss and bite it- no. Stop. If he had a squirt bottle, he’d be drenched from how many nos he says in his head.

Javier kisses you softly and follows you to a hall closet, where you grab him extra sheets and blankets, tossing extra pillows into the living room. The two of you make his makeshift bed, a sheet covering the cushions and several fluffy blankets on top of him. “Goodnight, Javi,” you murmur as you squat next to him, seated on the edge, kissing him goodnight.

“Goodnight, abejita,” he murmurs and kisses your forehead.

“Just holler if you need anything, okay?”

“I won’t,” he chuckles. “Go sleep. You need it.

You shake your head and cross your arms, making your way to your bedroom.

When you get in bed, you find yourself the drowsiest you’ve been in quite some time. The sleep you find is good, but you can’t help but think it would be better if Javier was in your bed too. Oh well. That’s a problem for tomorrow night.

-

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[kpop-zone]

Twice reaction to slapping their s/o

Nervously, you leaned to the side to be able to look past the driver at the dashboard clock.

2:47

“Shit...Can you drive a little faster please?”

You asked the driver panicked who gave you a look of commiseration through the rearview mirror.

“I’m sorry, I’d love to but I’m already driving as fast as I can.”

He replied apologetically and you forced a smile to thank him for his effort. You were tempted to offer him some money to make him rethink his reply, but then you figured that you had already messed up enough for one night. You couldn’t afford to get in trouble with him or the police. The only thing that was left to do now was to pray. Pray that your girlfriend had already fallen asleep and hadn’t noticed that you were missing for nearly five hours without any sign of life. You had left your apartment around 6pm to “grab a quick drink” with a few friends, but then one thing had led to the other and now it was almost 3am although you had told your girlfriend that you would be home no later than 10pm. The time had just flown by without you noticing and when you figured that you could sent your girlfriend a sign of life at last, you had realized that your phone was dead. You were sure that she had probably tried to reach you a million times already to no avail and was close to calling the police right now. You just needed to get home as fast as possible.

As soon as the driver pulled up to the building, you threw some bills to the front before bolting out of the car, not caring that you had probably just given him a tip of ₩50,000. The only thought that was left in your brain was to free your girlfriend from the anxiety that she was probably feeling right now. By the time you reached the front door, your lungs were slightly burning and you were panting like you had just run a marathon, but you didn’t give yourself time to catch your breath before quietly unlocking the door, just in case your girlfriend was asleep already. As soon as the door swung open though you could see that the light was still on in the living room and you knew that she must have been waiting for you.

Your suspicion was proven to be right when you heard loud footsteps nearing the door, causing you to mentally prepare yourself for a good scolding. But nothing could have prepared you for what was about to come. As soon as your girlfriend stepped into your field of vision, you could see that she was more than just angry. Her eyes seemed to be spitting fire and you gulped intimidated. Automatically, your mouth opened in an attempt to calm her down with an apology but before you even had the chance to utter a single word, you could suddenly feel your head being whipped to the side due to a painful force. Dumbfounded, you touched your cheek and looked at your girlfriend. That had been unexpected...

Nayeon

Perplexed, Nayeon stared at her own hand, not having expected herself to slap you. But she had just been so angry when she saw you standing in the door, being totally fine. How could you have consciously put her through so much agony? Torn between feeling guilty and angry, Nayeon stood in front of you, opening and closing her mouth without making a sound, not knowing whether she should apologize or scold you for your reckless behavior. When she looked into your eyes that were filled with utter disbelief though, she automatically reached out to touch your arm.

“I’m sorry.”

Nayeon mumbled ashamed, feeling how a blush rose to her cheeks.

“But do you know how worried I was?? Why didn’t you just send me a text?”

She added, not being able to fully spare you the accusations.

“I know that I’ve messed up. Time just flew by and I didn’t notice that my battery had died...”

You answered sheepishly while showing her the black screen of your phone, causing Nayeon to sigh.

“I swear to god, Y/N, if you scare me like that one more time...”

She threateningly put her hands on her hips and stared you down until you lowered your head bashfully. Her own guilt, however, forbade her to make you feel bad any longer. It seemed like both of you had simply allowed your emotions to get the better of you tonight. Hesitantly, Nayeon took a step closer to you, causing you to look at her. Carefully, she cupped your cheek and stroked it apologetically.

“Does it hurt?”

She asked with her voice dripping with regret.

“A little...”

You admitted and Nayeon immediately grabbed your hand to pull you to the kitchen. After asking you to sit down on the kitchen counter, she pulled out a bag of frozen peas from the fridge and gently pressed it against your cheek while standing between your legs. Fueled by her bad conscience, her hands didn’t stop caressing your skin; not even for a second.

Tonight, both of you had probably learned a lesson that you would never forget...

Jeongyeon

“Do you know what cellphones are for?? I was about to call the police!”

Jeongyeon yelled at you, blinded by her rage that had replaced the immense worry that had tortured her the past five hours the moment she had seen you standing at the door completely unharmed. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, and she had to suppress the urge to rip your head off. Never had she ever been so scared before. The voices in her head had told her over and over again that you had been kidnapped or hit by a car. If you had needed one more minute to come home, she had probably completely lost it.

“I-I... lost track of time.”

You stuttered dumbfounded while rubbing your cheek. Only now Jeongyeon realized what she had done, and she exhaled shakily, feeling how her anger slowly left her body.

“So, nothing bad happened?”

Jeongyeon reassured herself and you shook your head sheepishly, causing her to feel relieved, but also disappointed by your selfishness at the same time.

Awkward silence settled between the two of you while Jeongyeon tried to get a clear head again. Slowly her heartbeat reached a normal rhythm again and the uncomfortable feeling of regret formed in her stomach. Hadn’t she overreacted a bit? Shyly, she looked at you but you barely dared to meet her eyes, causing her heart to ache. Her bad conscience had finally caught up to her, leaving her with nothing but an urge to make it up to you.

“Come here...”

Jeongyeon mumbled before nodding her head towards the kitchen. Hesitantly, you followed her and sat down at the kitchen table, waiting for her to give you an ice pack. While you cooled your cheek, Jeongyeon awkwardly stood beside you, knowing that she had to apologize to you, but also feeling too proud to do so after what you had put her through tonight. Somehow she still needed to make you feel better though...

“Are you hungry?”

Jeongyeon asked, hoping that you would understand her without words.

Momo

Perplexed, you looked at Momo who simply stared at you without uttering a single word. Her face was almost blank, making you wonder what was happening in her head right now. You, for your part, were too speechless to apologize. Had she really slapped you? You were aware that you had upset her tonight, but you would have never thought that Momo would ever physically hurt you. Instead of giving you an answer to the thousand questions that were racing through your head though, your girlfriend suddenly turned around and walked away, leaving you behind with an open mouth. What a great way to resolve a conflict...

After squandering away at least half an hour in the living room in order to avoid another awkward encounter with your girlfriend, you eventually followed her to the bedroom. To your surprise, the lights were still on in the room and Momo was leaning against the headboard with her arms crossed while staring ahead vacantly. Unsure you lingered at the door for a bit before shuffling to your side of the bed. Several minutes passed in which neither of you spoke. Eventually, however, Momo’s voice cut through the heavy silence, causing you to flinch slightly.

“Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

She asked, the disappointment in her voice being unmistakable.

“My phone battery died...”

You mumbled sheepishly before painful silence surrounded the two of you again. You were about to flee the scene, unable to bear the tension any longer, when Momo finally decided to end your torture.

“I-I didn’t mean to slap you.”

She stuttered almost too silent to be heard and when you turned to look at her, you saw that she was hanging her head bashfully. Automatically, your hand reached over to grab hers, causing her to look at you.

“I know.”

You smiled slightly and Momo exhaled relieved.

“I’m sorry.”

Both of you said at the same time and you giggled sheepishly. There were still a few things unresolved, but at least you had finally managed to cut through the tension...

Sana

Frozen you stared ahead while trying to find an explanation for your stinging cheek other than that your girlfriend had just slapped you. This was Sana after all...the most loving person that you had ever met. Your frozen state, however, was suddenly disrupted by the hysterical voice of the person that had left you speechless in the first place and you shook off your trance to be able to focus on her.

“Where were you?? I was so worried, I thought someone had raided you and you wandering around the city hurt...”

Sana sobbed and only now you realized the miserable condition that she was in. Her hair was completely disheveled, and her face was puffy as if she had cried for five hours straight.

“You said you wouldn’t come home late! Why didn’t you let me know where you were?”

She continued although it was hard to make out her words between her sobs. Not being able to stand seeing her this way, you quickly took a step forward and wrapped your arms around her body. Sana buried her head in the crook of your neck without hesitation and started soaking your shirt with her tears while you tried to calm her with a thousand apologies. It needed a while till Sana’s uncontrollable sobbing turned into light sniffling, but eventually she loosened her tight grip around your waist and leaned back to look at you. Her gaze immediately zeroed in on your cheek and she reached out to stroke it gently.

“I’m sorry.”

Sana mumbled bashfully after examining your cheek and wincing when she noticed a red mark.

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry...I’m sorry.”

She kept on whispering while placing a kiss on your burning skin between every apology.

How could you stay mad at that?

Jihyo

“Do you know what time it is?”

Jihyo yelled at you, not caring about the neighbors that could probably hear her.

“I have no problem with you going out, but would it have been so hard to send me a text telling me that you’re late??”

She continued, needing to vent the immense anger that was seething inside of her. If she hated one thing, it was unreliability. You could pull an all-nighter for all that she cared, but she would want to know that beforehand. Because without a heads-up, she had worried the whole night and hadn’t been able to sleep a singly second although she had an exhausting schedule ahead of her.

“I didn’t think it was this late already...”

You mumbled sheepishly, causing Jihyo to scoff in disbelief. How delightful to hear that you seemed to have had fun... Without giving you the chance to justify yourself further, she simply turned on her heel and stormed to your shared bedroom. The anger inside of her was still seething, so she threw herself on the bed and buried herself under her blanket. It didn’t take long till she heard you laying down beside her and she huffed in annoyance. How could you have been so selfish? Usually you always informed her about everything. Which was probably the reason for her anxiety tonight. She had just assumed that something bad must have happened to you if you didn’t reach out to her.

The longer Jihyo thought about the events of the night, the more restless she felt. Even when she didn’t have to worry anymore now, countless other thoughts were still making her brain work at full stretch and sleep was a distant goal. Hadn’t she been too harsh with you? In hindsight, the memory of her hand colliding with your face caused her to wince and she tossed and turned for hours. If you would slap her every time that she didn’t pick up her phone, she would probably permanentely walk around with a swollen face. How could she have punished you for a misdeed that she committed almost every week? Oh how she hated when her temperament got the better of her...

She definitely needed to sort things out with you tomorrow.

Mina

For a second, Mina’s own action caused her to be speechless. It had been a while since she had lost control like that. If she was honest, Mina couldn’t remember a time that she had ever used violence to express her emotions. But what was done, was done. It was too late to backtrack now, so she decided to stick to the route that she had chosen.

“Do you know how worried I was?”

She asked calmly while putting her hands on her hips and staring you down.

“I didn’t mean to worry you...”

You tried to justify yourself, causing Mina to chuckle coldly.

“That’s good to know, because as I see it, I worried about you all night while you didn’t even waste a single thought on me.”

She replied, not knowing whether she was trying to make you feel guilty about your behavior or to make herself feel less guilty for slapping you.

“I...It’s not like that.”

You stuttered helplessly, proving to Mina that her strategy was working. If she wouldn’t feel so bad herself right now, she would probably enjoy seeing your bad conscience nagging on you. But under these circumstances, she just wanted the night to end as quickly as possible and to just forget about it. Therefore, she simply turned on her heel and walked towards the bedroom.

“Don’t scare me like that ever again...”

Mina said over her shoulder shortly before disappearing out of the room, not being able to leave this conflict completely unresolved.

Hopefully you could leave this night behind in the morning. She didn’t know if she could even bear to look at you if you ever brought it up again...

Dahyun

“Whoa, Y/N, I don’t know why I did that.”

Dahyun gasped before slamming her hand on her mouth in shock.

“D-did you just slap me?”

You replied dumfounded and Dahyun nodded hesitantly.

“I think I did. Oh my gosh...why did I do that?”

She still couldn’t believe that she had allowed her anger to get the better of her and she simply stared at you in disbelief. Eventually her shock died down, leaving behind nothing but a feeling of shame.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I was just so angry and caught up in the moment. Of course that’s not an excuse, but I guess that’s why I...slapped you.”

It was still hard for Dahyun to say out loud what she had done. Although she understood the reasoning behind her actions, she could not believe that she would ever turn to such methods.

“And I’m sorry for worrying you. I didn’t mean to vanish off the face of the earth like that.”

You replied sheepishly and Dahyun hummed understandingly.

“Yeah, I know that you probably meant no harm.”

She knew that she could not expect you to give her the benefit of the doubt while not cutting you some slack for your mistake at the same time. It was clear that both of you had done some things tonight that you would gladly make undone. Unfortunately, there was no button to rewind though and you needed to find another way to sort things out between the two of you.

“Let’s talk?”

Dahyun proposed while pointing towards the couch and you nodded in agreement.

Why couldn’t she have acted like this from the start?

Chaeyoung

Dumbfounded, you looked at Chaeyoung, hoping that she would be able to make more sense out of this situation than you could, but for some reason, she looked even more taken by surprise than you.

“What was that?”

You asked confused and Chaeyoung shook her head.

“I have absolutely no idea.”

She replied absentmindedly, looking like she was doubting her whole existence right now. Eventually, she snapped out of her trance and scanned you worriedly.

“Are you ok?”

Chaeyoung asked and you instinctively touched your cheek again. It was still stinging a bit, but if you were honest, you were more shocked than hurt right now. You would have never expected that she would hurt you.

“Yeah, I’m fine...”

You answered brusquely, but your girlfriend immediately picked up on your upset.

“No you’re not and that’s ok. I don’t really know how to make you feel better though... I’m sorry and I promise that I will never do it again, but I know that this doesn’t really fix things.”

Chaeyoung said pensively, sounding like she was incredibly disappointed in herself.

“It’s ok. Let’s just go to bed and talk tomorrow about it when we both have a clear head again.”

You proposed, trying to find a solution to this awkward situation.

“Of course, whatever you want.”

Your girlfriend immediately agreed, but you could see that something was still bothering her.

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?”

She added conscience-stricken and you thought about her offer for a second before shaking your head. Judging by the look on her face, she was probably already punishing herself more than enough. There was no need for you to resort to any drastic punishments as well.

“No, you need your sleep. You have to get up in a few hours.”

You replied with a slight smile playing on your lips while pointing at the clock on the wall.

For some reason you already knew though that your girlfriend would probably not be getting much sleep tonight anyways, no matter whether she would sleep on the couch or in your bed...

Tzuyu

If the current situation weren’t so serious, you would probably laugh at Tzuyu’s puzzled expression. She was staring at you with wide eyes and her mouth almost formed a perfect circle. Both of you seemed to be waiting for the other one to break the silence, but neither of you seemed to know what to say.

“Y/N...”

Tzuyu eventually made the first step, but her voice gave in before she could utter a complete sentence. Instead, she started to fidget with her fingers and chose to look at the floor. Therefore, you decided to try voicing your feelings.

“Why did you do that? I don’t know you like this...”

You asked and your girlfriend finally met your eyes again.

“I-I don’t know. I wasn’t really thinking clearly.”

She furrowed her brow as if your question was painfully martyring her brain. Nothing was left of the fury from before anymore and she looked like your considerate girlfriend again, making you wonder whether the slap had just been a fever dream. But the weird distance that was gaping between the two of you told a different story. The unfamiliarity of this situation was unbearable, and you hesitantly took a step forward to get closer to your usual source of comfort. But instead of closing the distance, Tzuyu walked backwards to increase the distance between the two of you again. In defeat, you sighed and decided to give your girlfriend the space that she was apparently seeking.

“Let’s go to bed?”

You asked and Tzuyu silently nodded in response.

Without wasting your time on another attempt to get close to her, you walked to your bedroom and got ready for bed. Your girlfriend, however, took her time to follow you. Only when you were already slipping under the covers, Tzuyu finally entered the room. For a moment she looked at you as if she wanted to say something but didn’t know the right words. Patiently you held her gaze, but eventually your girlfriend simply sighed and shuffled to her side of the bed. She laid down all the way at the edge and turned her back to you, making it clear to you that she wasn’t interested in talking. Therefore, you reluctantly turned off the bedside lamp and tried to curl up in a comfortable position. Yet, the unsettled conflict between the two of you didn’t let you rest peacefully. You tossed and turned for what seemed like hours until the voice of your girlfriend caused you to almost jump out of bed in surprise.

“I don’t know why I did what I did, but I will find out and make sure that it will never happen again. I promise.”

She said determined, making you realize that she had probably not been able to sleep any more than you. Somehow the determination of her words gave you the comfort that you had been seeking though and you felt how the tension of the conflict finally left your body. You knew that your girlfriend would keep her word.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 136

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,000ish

Summary: The pregnancy continues. Y/N spends time with Steve. (Read the note at the end of the chapter.)

Warning: car accident

Week 22 was full of compliments from Tony about how Y/N had never looked more beautiful. Her stomach began to get dry and irritated. This led to Tony spending a lot of time rubbing lotion on the baby bump while talking to Morgan.

Week 23 came with worsening symptoms: leg cramps, pregnancy brain, backaches, constipation, and headaches. Y/N was very grateful that Tony was a constant and so very caring. She honestly didn’t know what she would have done without him.

Weeks 24 and 25: Y/N’s sex drive had died, which disappointed the both of them. Tony knew and respected Y/N to know not to push. Her hands also began tingling, which apparently was normal.

Week 26: sleep was definitely not Y/N’s friend. Leg cramps, frequent urination, anxiety, and Morgan’s kicking made it nearly impossible. Tony felt awful, unable to find anyway for Y/N to get rest. A few times, late night drives worked or Tony taking to the bump, but that was few and far between. This left Y/N exhausted and crabby.

Week 27 began with an exhausted Y/N and an intensely worried Tony. They were in the city for Tony to go to a few Stark Industry meetings and so that Y/N could spend some time with Steve.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay down here alone until Rogers comes and picks you up?” Tony was worrying over Y/N. But he was also worried that, if he was any later to the meeting, Pepper would literally murder him.

“I’ll be fine,” Y/N replied, swatting away Tony from the chair she was in. “I love you. Now go.”

Tony pecked her lips. “Love you girls too.” He started hurrying away. “Make sure to take it easy! Let me know if you need anything!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/N muttered, waving at Tony.

As Y/N tried to find a comfortable position in the chair, she could feel something was off. Looking around, no one appeared off. She checked around a few more times before just chalking it up to that half the world had disappeared. Steve arrived lot long later and went inside to meet her.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” he greeted with a smile. “Wow.” He checked her over. “That baby’s really growing.”

“She is,” Y/N responded, smiling softly as she rubbed her belly. “Somedays I can’t believe it and others I just want her out.”

Steve reached his hands out to help his sister out of the chair. She put her hands in his. “My favorite niece giving my sister trouble?”

“Your favorite niece doesn’t let me sleep.” Steve pulled her up, keeping a hold of her while she tried to balance. “It’s kind of getting on my nerves.”

“Maybe her uncle can talk some sense into her today.”

“Please, she’s stopped listening to her father.”

Steve led her out and helped her into the car. Getting in himself, he began the drive to Brooklyn.

“So, I was thinking that we could eat lunch at this diner that’s opened back up in Brooklyn,” Steve suggested. “Then maybe visit the cemetery, visit the parents and AJ?”

“That all sounds wonderful, Stevie,” Y/N responded. “Morgan makes me hungry all the time, so sorry if I spend all your money.”

“Whatever makes my niece, and my sister, happy.”

~~~

Y/N was so picky yet ordered most of the menu. Steve ordered one small thing, thinking to himself that he’d finish up whatever Y/N didn’t. As they waited for their food, Y/N couldn’t help  but feel something was off again. She looked around again. Y/N could tell that the other people in there were trying not to stare at the former Avengers, trying not to glare. Studying her surroundings like she was taught, her fingers were anxiously tapping against the table.

“Hey,” Steve called out to her. “You okay?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine,” Y/N said, swallowing. “It’s just… People hate us. And I don’t blame them. We didn’t protect them like we always sworn to do.”

“Y/N,” Steve reached across and grabbed her hand. “We can’t control them and their thoughts and actions. Only our own.”

“And if they don’t move on?”

Steve sighed. “Then we don’t either.”

~~~

“So, how’s wedding planning coming?” Steve asked once the food arrived.

“Currently, it’s not moving much,” Y/N answered. “I just am exhausted all the time and I can’t even think about trying on a dress right now. I’ve mainly just created several Pinterest boards and such.”

“Well, you two are not in any rush, especially since you’re waiting for little Mo to come.”

“Little Mo?” Y/N giggled. “Is that what you’re going to call her?”

“I figured that, as the uncle, I needed a nickname for my niece.”

“You and Tony can’t just wait for her to come?”

“But it’s still too long of a wait. Like, how many more weeks?”

“I’m week 27 currently, so… I think I technically have 15 more weeks. Ugh, that’s too long! Don’t get me wrong, I have loved growing my daughter inside of me, but I’m tired of it and just want her here.”

“She’ll be here so enough and causing all sorts of problems then too.”

“I guess you’re right… She’s not going to let me sleep for years.”

“Good thing you won’t be doing this alone. You have Tony, Happy, Rhodey, Nat, Pepper, and, like always, you’ll have me.”

“Thanks Stevie. Means a lot.”

~~~

“I bought some flowers, they’re at my place,” Steve stated as they drove away from the diner. “Can we stop there and I can run in and grab them?”

“Of course, Stevie,” Y/N answered. “You mind if I just stay in the car? I’m getting tired.”

“It’s no problem. I’ll be quick.”

“It’s too bad though. I’ve never seen your new place.”

“And I haven’t seen yours.”

“I’ll convince Tony and we’ll have you over soon. Or I’ll convince him to leave and sneak you over. That probably won’t happen until Morgan’s here though. He barely let me do this.”

“He’s just scared and he cares. It’s who Tony is.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s one of the reasons why I love him.”

“I am happy for you. Even after all that’s happened.”

“Thanks, Stevie. I hope that one day you can find something that makes you happy as well.”

Steve shot a tight-lipped smile at his sister before pulling off to the side and parking. He rolled down the windows a bit, pulled out his keys, and opened his door.

“I won’t be long,” he said, heading out the door.

“And I’ll just me here,” Y/N responded.

She sighed, leaning back the seat. Taking off her seatbelt, Y/N closed her eyes and rubbed her baby bump. She was so tired and just wanted to rest, though nothing was allowing her to. Then again, Y/N felt like something was off. Her eyes opened and she began to scan the area. Something was not right, and hadn’t been all day. Sitting up straighter, as much as she could, her breath started quickening. Not able to see anything in front of her, Y/N checked the review mirror. She gasped just before a black suv came barreling into Steve’s car. 

Y/N was thrown into the dashboard, causing her to cry out. Steve’s car crashed into the car in front of it. The black suv backed up slightly before ramming into Steve’s car again. This time Y/N’s head it the windshield, cracking it. She screamed.

“P-Pl-Please!” She screamed. “My baby!”

As the black suv backed up again, another one barreled in from the side. This crashed Steve’s car into a lamppost. The window next to Y/N shattered all over her. Her vision was fuzzy from her head’s impact with the windshield and she could tell she had begun bleeding in placed because of the shattered windows.

“Because of you, my family is gone!” She heard someone shout from outside the car. “Because of you have the world is gone!”

“Please! Stop!” Y/N screamed. “Please! I’m pregnant!”

“I’m sure others were as well when they turned to ash!”

Tears were soaking Y/N’s cheeks as she tired to get out of the car. But her door was crushed into the lamppost. Her heart and head were pounding as both cars came at her again. She screamed in agony as something impaled her leg. 

“More of you should have died after failing to protect us!” The voice outside the car continued.

The black suv to her side rammed into Steve’s car again, effectively knocking her out cold.

~~~

Steve was whistling as he hurried down the stairs with the flowers. There were two boutiques, one for his parents and one for his nephew. As he exited his building, he froze. His car was totaled and two black suv’s were speeding away.

“Y/N,” he gasped. “Y/N!”

He ran to the car. Y/N was clearly unconscious, leaning against her crushed door. Steve quickly looked over her. She was bleeding, everywhere. Which was terrifying him. Looking for a way to get his sister out, he realized her door was crushed shut and stuck because of the lamppost.

“Y/N, Y/N,” Steve called. “Please answer me. Wake up and answer me.”

When he didn’t get a response, he began to tear things off the car. He needed to get to Y/N, needed to get her out of there before it was too late.

“Mr. Rogers!” An old woman came rushing out of no where. “I’ve called 911! They’re on their way.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” He ripped away the back door, finally.

“They said to wait for them to get her out.”

“Can’t do that. She’s my sister and she’s pregnant.” The sirens were then heard coming towards them.

“Please, Mr. Rogers, they’re almost here. You don’t know what damage you can cause.”

Huffing Steve reached through the shattered window to touch Y/N’s skin. “Stay with me, Y/N. Stay with me.”

~~~

“Where is Y/N?! WHERE IS SHE?!” Steve was sure that Tony’s panic could be heard throughout the whole city. Steve was sitting in the waiting room, head in his hands, as Tony, Happy, and Pepper came running in. “Rogers! Where is Y/N?”

Steve looked up, revealing his puffy red eyes and tear stained cheeks. “She’s—Y/N’s in surgery,” he replied, voice breaking.

“What?! How is she? How’s the baby?”

“She’s— they— I’m so sorry, Tony…”

“Rogers,” Tony growled. “Tell me what—“

“Mr. Stark,” a man called, coming out in scrubs. “I was told you’d arrived. I’m one of the doctors on your fiancé’s case.”

“How is she?” Tony turned to the doctor. “How’s the baby?”

“I’m afraid Miss Rogers was brought in with serious injuries. She was bleeding, quite a lot, and had a serious head injury. The baby was also in clear distress.”

“Clear distress?”

“We had to do an emergency c-section to deliver your baby. She’s currently in surgery as well.” Tony stumbled back, Happy steadying him. “They’re both in critical condition and still have quite a few hours of surgery ahead of us. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Thank you,” Pepper said, as the doctor left.

“Tony, let’s sit you down,” Happy said, guiding Tony down into a seat across from Steve.

“What… happened…?” Tony panted. “I thought you were with her?”

“I needed to grab something, Tony,” Steve responded, clearly feeling all the guilt. “I didn’t think that it would be an issue… I came down from my apartment to see my car completely wrecked against the car in front of it and the lamppost beside it… two black suv’s were speeding away. I didn’t get a good look at them.”

“I can’t— I can’t lose them…”

“I know.”

“If I do… I’m blaming you.”

“Don’t worry, Tony. I’m already blaming myself.”

next chapter >

I leave for Disney World this week. It is the last big family vacation that I will be on for a while. Because of that, I will not be on tumblr March 19th through March 24th. I will actually be deleting the app so that it’s not a distraction.

Most likely, nothing will be posted during that time. If something is, it will have been queued up. Things that are posted while I’m out of town will not have tag lists attached. I will put this note in all the fic posts until then.

So do not come at me for spending time with my family instead of including the tag list. (I say that knowing that people won’t care and still come at me…. be respectful and get over yourself.)

Check out the 2 ending chapter titles and possible banners here.

Also, I will be taking all of April off for job hunting and such. Please be kind and understanding. This is important to me.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[dabis-girl]

Don’t Push me, I’m too close to the edge.

𝗧𝗮𝗴𝘀/𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: edging, overstimulation,poly relationship, bi-sexual characters, humiliation, BDSM, clit stimulatin, sex toys, DDLG-Ish, cumshot.

𝐀/𝐍: I just wanna thank y’all for the 400 followers 🥰 and this took a bit longer than expected but ya know that how depression works. But this is probably this longest this that I have ever written this app and who knows maybe this will be a regular thing for me

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.5𝐤 this shit long asf to me but it’s worth it I promise.

𝐁𝐭𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 2 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

After wrapping up with Dabi you had to find some excuse to email your professor. Ultimately it came down to you your cat jumping on your computer. But, you really didn’t have much time to worry about that before he was pulling you into the shower. He took his time washing you up and planting tender kisses on your skin. You couldn’t help but cling to your man as your knees were still weak from your scene. Dabi had to ‘work’ but you really know that means he needed to ride around and hit licks. He always gave you the choice of coming along or staying at the house and more than likely you’d go. It was fun to ride around with a boyfriend that was the plug while anticipating the return of your dreamy college boy.

“ You coming with me today, or you stayin’ in?” He asked wrapping you up in a towel and placing you pert on the bathroom counter. Dabi took his time to put toothpaste on both your and his toothbrush and handed you yours.

“ I don’t know.” You said kicking your feet. Dabi rolled his eyes before spitting into the sink. But in your defense it was a tough decision riding with Dabi was always interesting,sometimes you wondered who were these people that he sold too? But you knew that Keigo plans for you. Your train of thought was derailed by your impatient boyfriend.

“ Are you gonna stay here and wait for Keigo, or do you want to come with me and see him when we come back?” He explained with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Do you want me to come with you?” You teased although you’d made your decision mimicking his actions of spitting in the sink.

“Don’t be a brat.” He warned. “ Matter of fact you’re staying here I don’t need your bratty ass in my passenger seat tempting me today. I like it when you’re a good little assistant. Keigo will take care of that.” He said. The two of you finished brushing your teeth and he rushed to get ready while you simply put on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

Dabi got dressed in the usual white v-neck, black jacket, and jeans. He made sure to leave you money to get whatever you wanted to get and gave you and kiss on the forehead. You knew he’d be back sometime tonight so you didn’t worry too much because he always came back. In the meantime, there was perfect blonde with golden eyes that was due home any second and you couldn’t wait. It wasn’t too long before Keigo returned, it was Friday and he didn’t have any more classes.

Not long after your pizza arrived and you finally found something to watch you heard keys in the door. It was only a few minutes after Dabi pulled off, it was either him forgetting something or Keigo's test was a breeze. Much to your surprise it was Keigo he always took like the max amount of time on his test. He was delighted to see you perched on the sofa.

“ Keigo!” You chirped upon his arrival.

“Hello, my songbird.” He huffed the exhaustion seeped through normally chipper tone, before he threw himself on the sofa.

“How was your test?” You asked, twisting your blanket nervously.

“It was bullshit.” Keigo answers. “But at least it’s over now and there’s pizza.” He said, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

It was quiet for a while as the only sound was that the dull roar of the tv. You weren’t even paying attention to the movie anymore because every twenty seconds you gazed over to your boyfriend sitting at the other end of the sofa, not paying you any mind. The longer he sat there scrolling through his phone the needier you grew. You had been waiting on this return all day just the be ignored. You could feel your bottom lip poking out as your eyebrows stiffened into a straight line.

Still, without paying you any mind Keigo picked up his backpack and started rummaging through it. Eventually, he pulled out a zip-lock baggie filled halfway with special flowers, following that came a pack of Honey backwoods and another pack of Russian cream’s. Those were for Dabi. You sat there and watched him roll up, the way that he could lick a wood to perfection always intrigued you. He sent you to fetch him a lighter and reluctantly obliged. One he sparked it and hit it a few times then he passed it to you. You didn’t smoke nearly as much before you met Dabi but it started getting out of hand when you moved in with him and Keigo, you were beginning to act like them smoking yourself stupid everyday.

He looked so good when he was smoking. The way he effortlessly inhaled the clouds of smoke. The two of you passed the wood until it was a stinger. Your eyelids felt like weights. Smoking always made you horny and you were already in anticipation waiting for Keigo’s return. You sat there feeling as if you were moving faster than the world around you. It was like you were hyper fixated on trying to figure out what he was thinking, was he doing it on purpose, or were you just that horny?

“Are you high Princess?” He asks with a laugh, breaking you out of thought. What kind of question was that? Of course, you were. All you could manage a nod and chuckle. “That’s good.” He began. “You know if I fail my test it’ll kinda be your fault.” He said with a laugh looking over to you.

“My fault?!” You scoffed dramatically.

“Yeah, your fault, the only thing in my head during the whole exam was you.” He leaned over to roughly knead your breast. ”And every time I tried to solve an equation all I could hear were your whorish moans in my ear.” He explained.

“Oh shut up.” You said snatching yourself away from his touch.

“I’m serious, and the worst part was I got a boner in the middle of it so then I really really couldn’t focus.” He didn’t spare any detail retelling the agony he was in. “But now I’m home with you to put my out of my misery.” A deviant smirk crept across his face before he forcefully tugged your shirt causing your body to fall forward. There was an unmistakable lustful fire in his eyes.

He abruptly left the couch returning with a white box with pink lettering. A gift? Or at least you thought it was a gift but that theory was debunked when you saw Keigo tear into the box himself. Seconds later he unceremoniously revealed a pink and white Hitachi wand, it was custom with your name monogrammed on the handle. It was nice and you wished that he would let you have it but you knew for a fact that wasn’t happening but he could at least show it to you. And he did eventually, looking at the toy excited you even more, and at this point, it was teetering on the brink of torture. Maybe this is what Keigo was talking about.

He told you everything about the toy, it was rechargeable, wireless it had 14 different modes and it was special, he ordered it just for you. You stared up at him wide-eyed practically begging him to play with you, yet still he was acting clueless. By now you had figured out that he was doing it on purpose it wanted you desperate, you were typically too shy to beg but the boys were known for pushing your limits. Keigo locked eyes with you and the two of you shared an intense gaze you wore the looking of longing plainly on your face, silently submitting to him.

“Do you wanna try it?” He asked nonchalantly.

“Yeah.”

“Me too but I have an idea.” He began and his sadistic smile returned. “I’m gonna edge you, yeah that’s what I decided until I get my test scores back depending on what I get we’ll see when I let you cum.” He explained. It was like he had it all figured out. Like he had been planning it. Perhaps that’s what he had been so quiet since his arrival.

You were still up in the clouds but his idea had brought you back down to Earth surely there was no way that he wouldn’t let you cum for who knows how long and there’s no way that Dabi would be able to hold you to it, or would he. That sadistic motherfucker will probably love the idea, anything that would turn you into even more of a needy bitch. You still hadn’t replied, the idea was just sitting in your mind, there was no way that you could tell him no just look at that face, besides he wasn’t asking anyways.

“Oh but I still want head.”

“How is that fair?” You whined.

Meanwhile, Keigo got up from the couch once again. This time he came back with the bondage tape. What the hell was going on in that barbarous mind of his. Suddenly you felt his grasp on your arm pulling you right into his lap.

“C’mere.” was the only warning he gave.You could feel his erection through the bearly there material of your shorts. A small whimper fell from your mouth at the friction, not to go unnoticed.

He made quick work Undressing you, it was a miracle that you never wore underwear in the house or hardly at all for that matter. Instantly his attention focused on your leaking slit. “ Oh my God look at your sloppy little cunt.” He said swiping the pads of his fingers over your clit causing you to shutter in response.

Keigo was sicker than Dabi he liked to torture you but he truly got off on pushing your limits Dabi just got off on the idea of humiliating you. He rested his hand on the top of your tummy lightly tapping his fingertips on your skin. A subtle arch of you back was giving away just how needed you were. Continuing his teasing he ran his fingers over your slick core. After he’d gathered a good amount of your fluid on his fingertips he brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting your arousal. Your hole quivered in response, but the real kick was when you found his wet fingers resting in your bottom lip. Obeying his request you sucked his fingers into your mouth tasting the mixture of your fluids.

He praised you with a smile before he pulled off a strip of tape. Lining the head of the Hitachi up with your clit he taped it into place, he added another strip of tape at the bottom of the wand securing it in place. Then he turned it on low and the small vibrations began to stimulate your cunt and you pulled a lustful face.

“Remember little bird you aren’t allowed to cum.” His eyes darkened before he spoke again. “You don’t wanna find out what’ll happen if you disobey me.” He finished, you nodded your head in agreement. It wasn’t enough for him he locked his hands in your curls pulling your head back and allowing your mouth to fall open. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes Sir.” You gulped as Keigo turned up the vibrations. Now they were a bit intense and you found yourself involuntarily bucking your hips every now and then.

“Perfect” Keigo agreed before sliding you off of his lap. He pulled out his already stiff dick, the tip was red, oozing with precum and your favorite part, decorated with a red titanium Prince Albert piercing. You licked your lips upon laying eyes on his member, someone’s hungry. “C’mere then you little slut.” He said roughly grasping the back of your neck to bring your mouth to meet his dick. “Keep your legs together, gotta make sure we keep that nast clit stimulated.” He said with a chuckle.

You were a superb cocksucker, Dabi made sure of that. So Keigo didn’t really have to do much. He just sat back and relaxed as your head bobbed up and down. Lewd noises began to fall from his mouth, it was like the vibrations from your pussy turned into moans around his dick. A heavy hand rested on the back of your head as you continued working away, Keigo then snaked his hands between your legs turning the vibrations up to the max. You gagged on his dick at the sudden change of intensity, the hand on the back of your head became more forceful pushing you down on his cock while his hip rutted into your face.

“Yeah just like that princess. Keigo praised. Your pussy was gushing by this point, throbbing and clasping down on the emptiness you felt. The low guttural moans turned into lustful whines. Keigo withdrew his dick from your mouth with a pop just in time to paint your face with hot thick ropes of cum. That mixed with the slobber made you into a perfect mess. You were still mewling at the vibrator stuck between your legs to overcome with pleasure to think. “Now let’s see how much of a mess your pussy is now.”

He had you lay on your back legs spread finally allowing the Hitach to ease off of your clit. The toy still buzzed frantically Against your inner thigh causing ripples in the soft skin Keigo ran his fingers over your clit once more and you shuttered hard at his touch. “Sensitive now aren’t we?” He laughed, still brushing light circles on your clit bringing to the edge rather quickly.

“Please, Sir.” You moaned. “C-can I c-uuummm please sir.” You said gripping the sofa cushions underneath you.

“There’s no time sweetheart.” He said, pulling out his phone and unlocking it quickly before Turning it off and putting it back into his pocket. “Dabi’s almost home, go wait at the door for him. I want him to see my masterpiece.” He said with a smug grin.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dabi walked through the door and he was visibly taken back by you sitting at the door waiting with a full face paint and a vibrator attached to your leg, Jesus Keigo. Dabi was disappointed that he wasn’t creative enough to think of something like that. He felt his cock twitch instantly in his jeans upon laying eyes on you. It was like something that he could only dream of. How did Keigo get you to agree to something like this?

“Hi, beautiful.” He said looking down at you on your knees before him with half lidded eyes and his forehead cocked back trying his best to conceal his excitement. “Looks like you got a neat little face paint going on here.” He said, examining Keigo’s work. It took seconds for Dabi’s cock to be straining against his zipper.

“D-addy.” You whined as the Hitachi was still pressed to your aching cunt. Keigo finally spoke up from the corner of the room.

“A doll isn’t she?” He was wearing the widest grin.Strolling proudly over to Dabi he created him with a kiss. Your black haired boyfriend gripped the blonde's jaw asserting his dominance in the interaction before pushing him away. The blonde stumbled backwards itha a grin on his face. Your hole shivered from the ongoing vibrations and the hotness of the scene in front of you let out a loud lewd moan uncontrollably, throwing your head back.

“Yeah a twisted like doll.” Dabi answered.

“ I’m edging her. Think she can take it?” He explained regaining his balance strolling over to pat your head.

“Oh, this princess? No way.” He said nudging your knee with the tip of his boot. Your face was buried in Dabi’s crotch while two men just chatted about you as if you weren’t in the room.

Keigo whisked you away to the living room with Dabi in tow of course, the pervert was going to watch. Keigo laid you down pressing your knees apart, shoving them up towards your ears. Your sensitive bud was temporarily relieved from the vibe. He was inspecting you, he could see your clit jumping from the overstimulation.

“Dabi looking, she’s dancing.” Keigo cheered. Dabi came over to look and he was right, your little pink nub was jumping up and down. Keigo shoved his pants down and sat beside you before pulling you to straddle his lap with you back to his chest.

It wasn’t a second before his dick was inside of you and a horrible groan fell from your lips from his insertion. It’s impossible you are going to bust. He was making you ride him with each of your feet planted on either side of him. You couldn’t help it, you screamed as your hips bucked off of his dick, body trying to run from the overwhelming sensation. Keigo’s grip was tight on your hips as he pulled you down forcing you to fuck yourself on his entire length. Through the fresh tears that welled in your eyes you could see Dabi sitting on the other couch with his dickin in his hand, pumping it mercilessly. The look in his eye was unlike anything you’d ever seen from him.

Keigo could sense your loss of focus and bucked his hips into you, hitting that sensitive spot within you. Now you were seeing stars, howling for release.

“Dabi I think she wants you to play to” Keigo said

“Well that’s all you had to say Princess. Dabi said, ejecting himself from the sofa and positioning himself in front of you and Keigo. You weren’t even given the chance to part your lips before once again Keigo had a rough hand in your hair yanking it causing you mouth to fall open, giving Dabi the perfect opportunity to slip into your mouth. The cold of his Jacobs ladder piercings provided a nice contrast to the heat of your tongue.

Your moans and screams were now choked as you sputtered around Dabis base, your neck taught trying to push for any resistance you could. Eventually you were granted a break, your lung swelled with air and your first exhale was used to beg for mercy. Your words came out broken as the man beneath you continued snapping his hips to meet yours.

“Pl-lug-ease sir I need to cum I-I can’t hold it anymore.” You whined breathlessly.

“God I know.” Keigo moaned. “The way you are fucking milking me I’m gonna-.” He didn’t even finish his sentence before he emptied himself inside you. When he pulled out there were long ribbons of your stifled arousal mixed with his that connected the two of you. “See Princess I knew you could do it.” He said as he reached around you to give you cunt a slap. “Told ya.” He tossed in looking up at Dabi taunting him with a wink.

Your body was nearly limp as Dabi moved aside to allow Keigo to peel you off of him, placing you on the couch on your back once more. This time the room is spinning and you know that you can’t take anymore stimulation without release. To you delight the vibrator was finally turned off and the buzzing cesed, however your clit was raw. You whimpered when you felt his soft wet muscle. It wasn’t long before he bypassed your nub and his tongue prodded at your quivering hole. It wasn’t for you, Keigo's slender tongue hastily lapped up the mixture of you two. Quickly withdrawing himself before walking over to Dabi. One of his hands caressed his jaw before he brought his lips to meet those of the dark haired man.

Unlike before, Dabi leaned into the kiss with an eagerness. Keigo hand then moved to clutch his still hard dick. He then began to stroke him. You watched dreamily through half lidded eyes, the sight was titillating to say the least. Your eyes dragged over your spent form, knowing that you couldn’t take anymore. Soon thick white ropes were shooting from Dabi’s cock, each one landing on your exposed belly skin leaving a warm aura around them.

“You just came for me fire crotch.” Keigo teased.

“Shut the fuck up.” Dabi said shoving him away before stuffing himself back into his pants. Dabi disappeared into the room emerging with a warm towel.

Keigo left to find you comfy clothes, he came back with a pair of fuzzy shorts and your favorite of his hoodies. While Dabi was cleaning up your face Keigo was untapping the vibrator at last. Once everything was done and you were all cleaned up and changed the boys cuddled into either side of you. Your head was in Dabi’s lap as he gingerly brushed your curls into a bun and your feet were in Keigo's lap and he was playing ‘this little piggy’ with your toes.

It then dawned on you that you had still yet to cum. A deep aching called to you and you whimpered in response.

“Ready for more, eh princess?”

[kitkatd7]

What Could’ve Been; Broken Hearts & Whiskey Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky finally starts trying to get his shit together but when you show up with another man it throws everyone for a loop.

Warnings: Angst! Overprotective Bucky, Pissed reader, Threats, womanizing character who gets what he deserves, Talk of the breakup, Cursing that Steve would be ashamed of, Tiniest bit of fluff but not really.   

Word Count: 3,331

A/N: I’m finally backkk!!! I’ve been wanting to work on this series for some time now and I’m finally getting a bit of motivation to do so! I hope you enjoy it!

A/N 2: Entire paragraphs of italics are flashbacks, single sentences of italics are internal thoughts, Bold italics are song lyrics.  I used lyrics from the song What Could’ve Been by Gone West for this story.  

Masterlist of Masterlists || Marvel Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Part 1

-----------------------------------------

**2 Months After Breakup**

Waltzing into the living room of the Avengers tower, you're met with a chorus of greetings from your adopted family. Despite you and Bucky being over you still spend time with everyone else- just when he isn’t around. 

You haven’t seen him since you broke up and you’d like to keep it that way. Seeing him would just be more than you could handle; you already lost him so why remind yourself of it more often than you already do? But at the same time his absence from movie night is just as painful of a reminder- like a puzzle with a lost piece. 

Snapping back to reality you give a halfhearted smile, joining Steve and Sam on the couch as Natasha hits play on ‘John Wick’.

----------------------------------------

2 hours later you’re standing in the kitchen making snacks with Sam before the next movie starts. “That’s ridiculous, Sammy!” You giggle, watching the microwave timer count down until the popcorn is ready. “Bacon does not belong in ice cream.”

You hear him chuckle behind you as he empties M&M’s into bowls. “Bacon belongs in everything, sweetheart. You're gonna try it sometime or else...”

“Or else what, Sa-” You cut off as you turn around, frozen on the spot as you peer over 

Sam’s shoulder.

“Hey, y/n,” Bucky whispers. Your gaze travels up and down the man you used to know, but he’s different. His eyes have bags beneath them from lack of sleep, his hair longer and more unruly than it was the last time you saw him. The stubborn jawline you remembered was replaced by a nervous clenched jaw. His eyes once so bright were now timid and dull; no longer holding the same sparkle that used to make you smile.

In an instant your expression went from a carefree woman with her friends to the girl who’s heart was shattered by the stranger before you whose face you used to know so well. 

“Can we talk?” Bucky asks gently, his expression hopeful yet dreading. 

“What are you doing here, James?” you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself as Sam looks between you both carefully.

“I live here,” Bucky nearly scoffs. 

“Barnes,” Sam warns, his shoulders tense as he glances at you worriedly.

“I don’t want to talk to you, James. I have nothing to say.”

“All you have to do is listen. Please, doll.” 

Despite your best efforts to appear unbothered, the nickname shatters your false bravado. “Don’t call me that,” your voice breaks as tears cloud your vision.

“Excuse me,” you whisper, rushing past both men, ignoring Bucky’s call of your name and attempt to stop you. 

“Let her go, man. You’ve done enough,” you hear Sam say as you flee down the hallway, slamming the bathroom door behind you. 

Locking the door you turn on the faucet as the tears begin to fall and the suppressed memories rush back:

**2 Months Before Breakup* Flashbacks*

“It’s midnight! Where the hell were you?” You yelled, tears pricking your eyes.

Bucky sighed in defeat, his expression resigned and cold. “Can we do this in the morning?” His tone more of an order than a request as he turns his back on you and begins to walk down the hallway of your apartment. 

“No, we can’t do it in the morning. You owe me an explanation. You were supposed to be here when my parents got here. You promised.” You sniffled as Bucky’s shoulders stiffened. “I’m sorry. I don’t have a good enough reason,” he mumbles before walking away. 

I haven't stopped thinking about you

Has it really been this long?

Two years and an ocean between us

And I don't know where it all went wrong

I know I coulda kissed you harder

And yeah, you coulda followed through

Shoulda talked a little bit softer

But we meant every "I love you"

**1 Month Before Breakup**

Glancing around the restaurant you see no sign of Bucky. Checking your phone for the 8th time in the past 10 minutes, you sigh. Where is he? You’ve been here for an hour; waiting in your new dress for the man who hadn’t bothered to show. You’re getting tired of the pitiful looks the waitress and the other customers are shooting you. Polishing off your second glass of wine you open your phone: no new messages.

You’ve already sent Bucky 5 texts and called him 4 times; you're done.

Paying for the wine quickly you all but flee the restaurant, trying to hold back your tears. If you weren’t so upset you would probably laugh; laugh at yourself for being so naive to think he would keep his word. But you can’t bring yourself to laugh, not while your heart slowly shatters at the hands of the man who swore never to hurt you.

I don't know what this is or what it isn't

But it feels like we've got unfinished business

**2 Months Ago; AKA Week of Breakup**

“Hey this is y/n, I can’t come to the phone right now cuz I’m out livin my life! Leave it at the beep.” He hears your all too familiar voicemail through the speaker. He had helped you come up with it, you hadn’t known what to put on it. He kicks himself, knowing you weren’t actually out living your life, just dodging his calls. Not that he blamed you- He deserved it and he knew it. Calling again, he’s not surprised when he hears your voicemail again.

“Hey… Um, listen, I know I was supposed to be at your place after the mission… I just wanted to unwind with the guys and- Shit. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think you would mind that much, I’ll be over in a bit to make it up to you, okay?” He leaves the message and ends the call before starting his car and driving towards your apartment, guilt heavy in his stomach.

You listen to his voicemail over and over, a strange mix of rage and sorrow weighing on your heart.

Tears roll slowly down your cheeks silently as you lay curled up in a defensive ball on your bed, trying to block out the unmistakable sound of Bucky begging you to open the front door; “Babe, please open the door,” He says, fist resting gently against the frame. “I’m sorry- really, really sorry. Please let me in and we can talk about it,” He sighs, resting his head against the door in defeat. He could break the lock and go in. You both know that. But he wouldn’t do that to you- All that would do is make you fear him and that’s the last thing he wants. He slides his back down the wall til he’s sitting on the floor next to your door, his elbows on his knees and his hands in his hair; Tears gathering in his lashes. He really messed up this time.

The next day you drag yourself out of bed, trying to forget last night and all the tears you shed. After a shower and breakfast, you head out the door for a coffee run before work. You stop in your tracks when you see Bucky still sitting there, eyes red from lack of sleep and regret written all over his face. He jumps up when you walk out, keys in hand, the door closing behind you. “What are you doing here?” 

“I- I came to apologize,” he murmurs, looking in your eyes.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you bite, moving to step around him but stopping when he steps to block your path.

“Bucky, I’m going to be late for work,” you say coldly, glaring at him. “Move out of the way.”

“Please doll, just let me explain-”

Huffing, you roll your eyes. “I understand perfectly, James.” You watch as he flinches a little at the use of his first name. You only use it when you're really mad or really happy, and it isn’t the latter right now. “You were too busy with your beer buddies to come see your girlfriend after being gone for three weeks, but what’s new? It’s been like this for months. I guess it was naive of me to expect something else this time.” 

'Cause we left blood the on the tracks

Sweat on the saddle

Fire in the hills

A bullet in the barrel

Words never said in a story that didn't end

Looks like you're on the mend and I'm on the bottle

We folded our hands with money on the table

**Present Day**

All the broken promises, nights alone and tears came rushing back as sobs racked your body. Sliding down the door you rest your head between your knees, eyes screwing shut tightly in a useless attempt to stop the bittersweet memories and tears. 

Little do you know that outside the door sat a man with tears clouding his vision as he listened to your muffled sobs on the other side of the door. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to turn back time and undo all of the agony he caused you and hold you like he's been wishing he could for the past 2 months. You were just on the other side of the door, separated from him by a few inches of wood and yet you had never been farther away. What did he do?

Tried moving on, but I keep coming back again

To what could've been

What could've been

Oh, what could've been

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

-------------------------------------------

Stumbling into your apartment you all but throw your keys and purse down before shuffling into the bathroom and turning on the hot water for a shower before turning back to the mirror.

The person you see looking back at you in the mirror isn’t who you remember- or at least not who you thought you were. The person you remember was carefree and happy; living in a dream with the love of their life. You don’t recognize the girl in the mirror with swollen, bloodshot eyes and shoulders that hold the weight of the world. What happened to the girl you used to know?

A single tear rolled down your cheek, leaving a mournful trail in its wake. Bucky. Bucky happened to that girl. 

There had always been doubt hidden in the back of your mind; doubt that your beautifully woven reality would become nothing more than a tangled web of what once was and could’ve been, but you never thought it would end like this. You had imagined it being another girl that came between you, or perhaps his self loathing or the inadequacy you felt. Never did you think it would be the unexplainable, cold, unfeeling resentment that had taken over the gentle, sweet man you thought you knew.  Where did it go wrong?

A couple more simple, "I'm sorry's"

A little less tryna be right

I wonder how many good mornings we wasted

'Cause we didn't say goodnight

One touch before we fell asleep

Just before our love was out of reach

Coulda been enough, coulda saved us from this loneliness

------------------------------------------

“Steve?” Bucky calls out as he strides into the training room, the door banging shut behind him. Whirling around Steve clutches a hand to his chest. “Jesus, Buck! You scared the hell out of me!”

“I need your help,” Bucky demands, jaw set in a firm line and his eyes glittering with determination. 

Steve runs a hand over his face, letting out a sigh. “Is this about Y/N and the other night? Because if it is I am not apologizing to the poor girl for you, so you can just-” 

“I want her back.” 

“You what?!” Steve exclaimed, his jaw dropping.

“I want her back- I need her back. And I need you to help me.” 

“Damn it, Bucky. It’s been 2 months and you saw how she still feels about what you did. How are we gonna fix that?”

“I don’t know yet, Steve… But I have to try. Please.”

-----------------------------

Strolling into Tony’s party happily, you smile up at your date, your arm linked with his.

You greet Tony with a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek before turning towards the sound of Natasha calling your name. Sashaying towards her you give her a hug before turning to give Thor and Steve one as well.

“So, who’s this?” Nat asks, gesturing towards your date who’s eyeing her unabashedly, his gaze dropping to her neckline.

“Oh, sorry! This is Jordan!” 

You roll your eyes as Thor begins lightly interrogating him, but he doesn’t pay much attention, his gaze fixed on Natasha’s retreating form.

“Can we talk?” Steve asks, his hand resting gently on your forearm. Following him into a nearby corridor you give him a puzzled look. “Is something wrong, Steve?”

“Um, not exactly…” he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, what is it then?”

“It’s about Bucky.” Seeing your irritated expression he holds up his hands innocently. “Wait a minute. Just hear me out, okay?”

“Fine.”

“Look, he’s been spiraling since you guys broke up; not eating, always working and out on missions constantly, and his nightmares are getting worse again.”

“Why should I care?”

“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend like you don’t still love hi- Actually, fine, Y/N. If you want to pretend that you don’t care then that’s your problem. Just know that seeing you the other night? Changed something. He’s trying again, and I don’t want to see him lose that. So even if you want to tell yourself that it doesn’t matter to you, at least think about it for me.” Steve turned away, pausing for a moment. “Oh, and by the way? Seeing you here tonight with someone else isn’t gonna be good for anyone… But why should you care, right?”

Taken aback by Steve’s lack of usual patience, you can only watch as he walks off, disappearing into the crowd and leaving you with mixed emotions and a hard decision ahead of you; what were you gonna do?

No matter how hard you tried to block out thoughts of Bucky they always managed to slip back in between the cracks in your shattered heart. Steve was right; you did care. But what were you supposed to do about it tonight? Especially about Jordan. Were you supposed to walk up to him and say ‘oh, by the way you have to leave because my ex is here and he may or may not rip your arms off? No, that wouldn’t work.

Racking your brain for a solution, you snag a glass of champagne from one of the passing trays, downing it in the hopes of drowning your mixed emotions - it didn’t work. Taking a deep breath, you start weaving between the sea of bodies towards where you left Jordan.

Spotting Thor and Tony you make your way towards them, smirking when you hear Tony arguing with Thor over… something. 

“Where’s Jordan?” you ask, joining their small circle and trying to shake off your conversation with Steve.

“He was here a minute ago… I’m not sure though, kiddo,” Tony says, giving you a puzzled glance. “Speak of the devil, here he is!” Tony exclaims as you look over your shoulder to see a slightly ruffled Jordan walking towards you, his eyes holding an unnatural hazy look.

“Where were you?” You ask lightly, gaze raking his bedraggled form; his shirt slightly untucked, hair mused and lips pink. 

“Oh um, nowhere. Just the bathroom.”  

Accepting another glass of champagne, you push down the fury in your chest. You’d just taken a sip when an all too familiar figure came to stand beside you; a scotch glass in his hand and clad in an unfairly attractive black suit. “Hey Y/N, who’s this?” 

Nearly choking on your drink, your eyes widen. “Bucky! What are you doing here? You hate these parties!” You say before you can stop yourself. Stupid. The offhanded statement would seem innocent to most, but to you- to you it was a reminder that you still knew him better than anyone else did, a reminder that you remembered all the nights alone together instead of at the noisy parties, a reminder that you still cared enough to remember. 

You could see that he was thinking the same thing. “This is Jordan. My…” you faded off, not quite sure what to call him.”

“Date,” Jordan finishes for you, wrapping his left arm around your waist lazily, his hand traveling slightly further than appropriate for the first date. “But we’re keeping things loose, isn’t that right?” Jordan asks, glancing at you but not waiting for an answer. “And who the hell are you?”

Your eyes widen in shock, glancing back and forth between the two men; taking in Jordan’s cocky smirk and Bucky’s knowing look. 

Bucky extended his hand, a malicious smirk on his lips and dark glint in his eyes as he took in the unprofessional state of Jordan- including the lipstick stain on his white button down- and the uncomfortable shift of your weight, leaning away from your sorry excuse of a date. 

Jordan accepted the outstretched hand, wincing visibly and paling at Bucky’s iron grip.  “Bucky Barnes,” Bucky offered, enjoying as the other man wriggled uncomfortably in his grip, his arrogance forgotten. His gaze lighted on Bucky’s metal arm, his eyes lighting with recognition and terror. 

“Holy- you're the Winter Soldier! God man, I’ve heard so much about you-”

“An honor, I’m sure,” Bucky drawls, looking bored, his voice dropping an octave in warning. “Now get lost.” 

You sputter defiantly as Jordan scurries off, his tail between his legs. 

“What was that for?!” you fume,a fire burning in your eyes as you turn on Bucky.

“Oh c’mon. The guys’ been eyeing every other woman in here! He’s a douche! What was I supposed to do? Just let him feel you up after sneaking off with who knows what girl?”

“Who ‘feels me up’ is none of your concern anymore!” 

“Come off it, Y/N! You didn’t even want him touching you! I was protecting you, so your welcome,” he huffed.

“I don’t need protecting, and I sure as hell don’t need you to protect me. So you can go fuck yourself, James. You can’t treat me like shit for months and then get mad when someone else does the same thing!” you snarl, spinning on your heel and storming off as Bucky watches you. 

Bucky stalks across the floor, the crowd parting before him; not willing to get in the way of the 6 foot man on a mission. Locating his target- dancing with another girl no less- he grabs him roughly by the collar before pushing him against a pillar.

“What the hell, dude?” Jordan fumes, eyes locking on Bucky’s before he goes slack, his eyes widening in horror when he recognizes the former assassin.

“Every single thing you’ve ever heard about me is true, so shut up and listen closely,” Bucky growls, his arm braced against Jordans chest forcefully, a murderous glint in his eyes. “I expect you to do exactly what I say, and if you don’t, I’ll know. First, you are going to get your sorry ass out of here, and then you are going to send Y/N an apology text, telling her what an asshole you are, and that you don’t deserve to even look at her. Then, you are not going to get within 1,000 feet of her, and you are not going to text, call, or even think about her ever again, or I swear to God I will hunt you down, cut your balls off and shove them down your goddamn throat, got it? Nod if you understand. Good. Now. Get. Out.” 

Releasing Jordan, Bucky watches as he falls to the floor before scrambling towards the door with the fear of God instilled in him. 

“What the hell did you just do, Bucky?”

-----------------------------------

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[jaskiersvalley]

Hello!! 💕 Just wanted to let you know that I love your "Jaskier has always smelled of blood" au. It means a lot to me 💛 I feel like it brings some kind of awereness to the issue and I'm really gratefull for it. Thank you 💕

Nonnie, thank you so much for your kind words. That AU is one that I spent a lot of time mulling over and debating whether to write it or not. But given the fact that it means a lot to you, it was most definitely worth it. There is actually another topic that has been on my mind a fair amount that is as heavy as that AU, which is what happens when a suicide attempt doesn't succeed. Hopefully you won't mind if I write that as a little thank you for your lovely ask.

CW: Suicide attempt (overdose of Witcher potions)

Love wasn't meant to be part of a Witcher's life. That was what Eskel had always been taught and he accepted it as his lot in life. When he was younger, he had raged against it, tried to defy the truth. He attended parties, wooed and seduced wherever he went. Love never stuck but at least his lust was sated. Then Deidre happened and Eskel had a new reality to get used to, one where he was seen as monstrous, hideous and repulsive. Those were just Lambert's teasing words, trying to exaggerate and poke fun at the situation. Not that it helped. Suddenly, Eskel could only attend masquerade balls where his face was hidden from view for fear of upsetting humans. It was either that or finding hungry and desperate succubi who valued his Witcher enhanced attribute more than his visage. It didn't stop Lambert from cracking jokes.

"You don't have a succubi problem, you just have a succuebae. Get it? Before anyone else!"

It was easy for Lambert to say, brothels still took his coin if he wanted it. Though, by the sounds of stories, he didn't need to frequent such places, not when he had a Cat Witcher travelling with him and eager to share all aspects of the Path, not just the pay for contracts. Still, Eskel couldn't begrudge Lambert, he'd always had a shit lot in life. If he could buck the rule about love, good for him, he deserved that slice of happiness.

Then Geralt had to go and find himself a bard who was devoted to him. Eskel could smell the pining on Geralt over winters and then love when Jaskier finally spent the winter with them. That was fine too. Much like Lambert, Geralt also deserved someone to love and share his life with. Even multiple someones when Yennefer arrived and had no need of a room of her own.

It was fine. Eskel could be happy for them. He wasn't jealous, didn't feel like he'd been cheated out of anything. Those were thoughts he turned away from every night when he pulled his covers tight around him and pretended he didn't wish it was the warm embrace of a lover, probably much like the other two had.

Things got worse when Eskel started getting left out of things. There were games that the happy couples played in the evenings, something about how well they knew each other. It was raucous and fun by the sounds of it. Eskel stayed in the kitchen, cleaning because it wasn't a game he could play. The double dates looked fun, going out on rides. Once Yennefer even opened up a portal for them to spend a night away for some romantic getaway. The bard about Eskel bringing Lil Bleater had stung more than he cared to admit. Slowly, Eskel was forgotten. Vesemir had his books, was content with those and the letters he seemed to send. If Eskel was lucky, he'd end up like him. But Eskel didn't want to become Vesemir in his old age. Not even Vesemir really, not when Eskel didn't even have friends to exchange letters with.

The bleakness of it ate away at Eskel for years. Each time he returned to Kaer Morhen without a travelling companion, without someone to write to, he felt like a failure. To the point that he tried drinking, tried fisstech, anything to forget, even if just for a little while. Nothing worked though, every time reality caught up with him. There was only one solution he could see, one where there was no tomorrow to wake up to. It wasn't a rash decision, Eskel didn't immediately act on those thoughts. But his mind was made up and with that came a sense of relief. He had a few things to get in order, to figure out but there was now an end in sight, a way out and on his own terms.

One last winter he made the trek to Kaer Morhen. He had a tidy pack of coins, some truly excellent Gwent cards and a large stash of potions he had brewed up. All in all, he looked like he had a good year on the Path. Nobody needed to know that all his external riches were a façade for the poverty of his heart.

His plan was a simple one. It wasn't like a Witcher left a will or anything like that, his measly belongings got scavenged when he didn't return from a contract. That wasn't what Eskel wanted, he was going to make sure all his belongings were going to go to the person he wanted them to end up with. Which was why he started with Gwent. He played Geralt and, slowly but surely, lost all his best cards. Eskel prided himself in how he could play so well that they others believed he was having a bad run. Couple it with drinking some of Lambert's brew, it was an uproarious night full of laughter, friendly slaps to his back and loudly declared sympathy for his poor, alcohol addled brain.

Once the good Gwent cards were gone, Eskel switched out, claiming he needed someone lesser to play because Geralt was just too good. As predicted, Lambert took great offence at being called a worse player and shoved Geralt out the way. Eskel bet money, a nice pair of gloves and, in an almost unheard of turn, Scorpion.

"I needed to leave you with things to barter with for the rest of winter," he told Lambert with a smile. "Because I'll be winning it all back in the coming weeks, with interest on top."

The laughter that went up at that was nice. Eskel was satisfied all the worthwhile things in his possession had found good homes. Vesemir had already taken the spices and seeds he had returned with, along with the small mountain of foods that would keep them well fed over winter. What Eskel didn't expect was the hugs and pats to his back as they got ready to get to bed.

"It was nice to see you smiling and laughing again," Jaskier commented.

"This was like the old days," Lambert agreed, rubbing his knuckles over the top of Eskel's head viciously.

Aiden clasped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze with a smile. "Good to have you back."

It wasn't like Eskel had ever left, he had been there all those years, it was the others who didn't want him. It didn't matter now though. They'd had one final night together, it all went well. Eskel waved goodbye to them all, heart heavy but also light. He couldn't have asked for a better final evening.

Back at his room, he sat down on his bed and looked around. There wasn't much left. The furs and throws were all down in the communal areas, he'd migrated those down over the last couple of weeks. His armour wouldn't fit anyone and it wasn't suitable for reworking for the others. It would be the perfect thing to wear to his funeral pyre so he pulled it on one last time, taking a deep breath as the familiar scent of worn leather enveloped him. All the potions he'd brought back with him were lined up on his bedside table. He knew what he was doing. The others would understand, maybe even take it as the gift he meant it to be. He wouldn't be the odd one out anymore, the loner who brought the group down by hanging onto their coattails. They could have their double dates, their romantic getaways without having to worry about him or feeling guilty for leaving him behind.

The first potion was Cat, he downed it, feeling the world shift into larger clarity in the darkness of his room. It didn't sit heavy in his stomach, three potions were fine to take, four was when the toxicity began to affect him. Though Eskel was a large man, he could probably deal with about six potions before he became ill. It was why he had fifteen little bottles lined up, one worse than the other in terms of toxicity. Next, a Maribor Forest slid down his throat, followed by a Lapwing. They were all conflicting potions, making his body shake. Brock tasted foul but it was still better than Rook which made Eskel's heart pound. Taking a break, Eskel settled back on his bed, head spinning. He could feel his whole body shaking with unspent energy the potions teased out of him. It felt horrible, his stomach roiled. Without his attention on some creature and the fight for his life, Eskel couldn't help but focus on the way his joints seemed to itch, his muscles tingling.

Five potions weren't going to be enough. Reaching for another bottle, Eskel knocked back two Thunderbolts in a row. He gagged but pushed on, head swimming. Virga at least tasted a little better. It was wiped out by the Nekker Warrior Decoction. The world was fuzzy, Eskel whimpered a little as his muscles seized and cramped and his stomach ached. He'd rarely taken enough potions to even flirt with the edges of toxicity, to deliberately do it was agony. This wasn't how he'd expected it to go, he thought he'd take them, lie back and go to sleep. Pain was not part of the deal but he would shoulder it, this was his choice. A couple of the empty bottles clattered to the ground as he reached for the next one. Most of the Black Blood went down his chin as he spluttered. Leaning against the headboard, he closed his eyes, willing the wooziness to go.

Maybe to took more potions, maybe they were dreams, he didn't know. What Eskel did know was that he woke up in his bed, the sun shining bright in the sky. Head pounding and stomach churning, he could smell stale vomit in the air. Rolling onto his side, he threw up over the edge of his bed. Breathing shaky, Eskel coughed miserably and spat to clear the bitter taste from his mouth. Judging by the state of his floor, it wasn't the first time he had thrown up but it was definitely the only one he could remember. Flopping back onto the bed, Eskel covered his face with his palms and choked back on a howl of frustration. He couldn't even kill himself properly.

The problem was, Eskel had no plans for what to do if he failed. He'd been so certain that he would go to sleep and never wake up again. At a loss, he fell back onto habits and routine. He was already dressed in his armour which was acceptable clothing to go downstairs for breakfast. Nothing heavy, he couldn't face the idea of eating anything. But a drink of water would do him good. Stumbling into the kitchen, he grunted a greeting at the others who seemed to be having lunch. Of course they didn't notice he hadn't gotten up for breakfast. Either that or they just didn't care.

"You're dressed ready for war," Lambert joked but the smile on his face froze when Eskel looked at him. "Woah. You look like shit."

Geralt was out of his seat and grabbing Eskel by the chin, giving him a close inspection and a less than subtle sniff. Whatever he detected had him tensing up and glancing to Lambert who looked alarmed too.

"Let's get a bit of food in you," Geralt rumbled and guided Eskel to the table where Aiden's face turned stricken. Even Jaskier and Yennefer looked solemn, their usual rivalry nowhere to be seen. In fact, everyone seemed intent of giving Eskel the attention he didn't crave.

From the doorway, Lambert called, "Geralt" and stepped back. But the clink of bottles in his hand and the hushed, hurried conversation gave away the fact Eskel's dirty secret had been found out.

"I'll go clean the room but he's not going back there. Not alone," Lambert growled. The others around the table didn't even bother pretending they weren't listening in.

Vesemir's footsteps approached and Eskel wished fervently that the potions had done the job. Especially as he listened to the conversation.

"What's going on here?"

"It's Eskel he-" the clink of bottles followed again, Lambert no doubt showing Vesemir the evidence of Eskel's shame.

"I see." Vesemir rumbled softly and walked into the kitchen. He sat down next to Eskel, not saying a word. However, he squeezed his shoulder and swapped out the tankard of water for a warm tea, adding a dash of honey to it. "Geralt, get a Golden Oriole from the cupboard."

Eskel could only watch as it was added to his tea, heart sinking. Nobody said anything. Not even when Lambert returned, looking a little green in the face. He sat down, squirming in the silence.

"Are we not going to say anything about it?" He asked in the end. "We can't just pretend it never happened."

"We won't," Vesemir replied, voice warm but also full of warning. "But there's a time and place for everything. Right now, our priority is the physical. The Golden Oriole will help. Then Eskel will go and have a lie down in front of the fire to sleep and let his body heal."

It was so much easier to follow Vesemir's instructions than have to think for himself. Eskel hadn't thought he'd see the sun again, hadn't thought he'd have to worry about things like daily chores and ways to spend the long hours of a day. At some point he must have finished his tea because the mug was empty but Eskel didn't remember it. He was ushered towards the pile of furs and throws from his room and he sank into them, exhausted already. He was only half awake as he heard the conversation around him while a throw was carefully draped over him.

"How could he do this?" Geralt hissed, sounding angry for the first time. "Why would he do this to us?"

"I'm sure we'll find out." The reply from Vesemir was soft and calm. "But what we need to focus on is helping him realise it was a good thing he didn't succeed."

"What if he tries again?"

"We have to hope he doesn't. He won't be alone for the next few weeks, we'll take turns keeping him company. And hope that we can do enough to make him want to stay." Vesemir was oddly calm and resigned. "I've seen others do this before. We can only hope to counter the darkness that has befallen his mind."

Lambert joined the quiet conversation. "But he seemed so happy last night. In fact, he's been the most at peace in years. I thought he was getting better."

Even half asleep, Eskel could understand the words, appreciate the thoughts behind them. But he didn't know if the plan would work. He doubted the others would understand or would be able to do anything to help him. After all, they still had their partners, lovers and each other. All Eskel knew for certain was that if he tried again, he'd do something with an assured outcome. He just hoped the others would understand.

[eclecticmiasma]

Human Art (Yandere!Rohan x Reader)

🖤 For the eternally lovely @vani-ya​ 💚

When strange things start happening around your apartment, your kind friend Rohan offers you a place to stay. 

NSFW

[Warnings: somnophilia, rape, mind control, abuse, dead dove: do not eat] 

It started out innocuous enough. Doors ajar that you could have sworn you closed. Missing laundry. Strange bruises. The fact that Morioh had a serial killer running around wasn’t exactly a secret, so you just felt like you were being overly paranoid when little things around your apartment began to go awry. You weren’t always the most mindful person, and a few little incidents did not a serial killer make.

That is, until the open doors had broken locks. Until you found strange stains on your underwear. Until the bruises that marred your hips and thighs began to look like fingerprints.

“Maybe it’s a ghost!” Okuyasu jested, waggling his eyebrows. Rohan shot him a look of deep disgust. Okuyasu’s face fell as he remembered the existence of Reimi, “Sorry…”  

“Well, you’re more than welcome to crash at my place,” Josuke interjected, “Mom’s probably dying to have another woman around-” At this, Rohan let out a snort of laughter.

“Stay at your place? And sleep where exactly?” Josuke chewed the inside of his lip.

“I…I mean I could sleep on the couch…” The mangaka rolled his eyes and set down his coffee with a frustrated clink.

“Am I always the only one with any real solutions?” He turned to you and looked you sternly in the eyes, “[Y/n], I’m sure you’ve noticed that my house is massive. As long as you don’t interrupt my work, the best thing to do is to stay with me for a while,” The gang blinked at Rohan, shocked at his uncharacteristic generosity. Okuyasu got ready to grill him on the fact that he refused to let him and his father stay at his mansion despite the fact that they continued to live in an abandoned shack, but Josuke elbowed him before he could start.

You were hesitant to accept. While it was a generous offer, you never really spoke to Rohan beyond gathering cursory information about the town’s other stand users. He sensed your unease and softened his gaze.

“It’ll be…an adventure. Maybe you could even help me model certain character poses? There is a severe lack of women in my work.”

In the end, you agreed. All of your things were moved to Rohan’s with the help of your friends, and you found yourself much more at ease with someone else in the house. Even if your rooms were fairly far apart, you felt much less likely to be murdered while not living alone. Whether or not that was misguided, you began to enjoy your temporary home.

But, slowly, incidents began to occur at Rohan’s home too. Much like before, they started out small. Bits of hair in your bed that weren’t yours. More marks on your body, covering the ones that had faded. One morning, you woke up with something dry and flaky across your chest and neck. You started to think that Okuyasu was right, maybe you did have some kind of ghost following you around.

When you voiced your concerns to Rohan, he waved them away. The two of you did laundry at the same time, so of course it was probably his hair caught in your blankets. Your aloof nature meant that you constantly bumped into things, he saw it himself. As for the mystery substance on your chest, maybe you needed to buy some new body lotion that wouldn’t clump up in your sleep. He recommended a local brand. Everything you came at him with, he had an answer for. Rohan’s level-headed nature put you at ease, and you were thankful for him.

But then everything fell apart. You don’t know what possessed you, perhaps it was a familiarity with the mangaka’s drawing room after having modeled for his various projects several times, but you found yourself perusing his massive catalogue of books. He had a novel on nearly every subject. As he told you many times, he found it of utmost importance to take inspiration from the real world.

When none of his library piqued your interest, you walked away from his bookshelf and padded over to his desk. Though you were never allowed to look at his unfinished work, curiosity got the better of you. Rohan was much too controlling when it came to his work, you felt. A little peak wouldn’t do anyone any harm.

You picked up a sketchbook and rifled through it, amazed at how detailed his drawings were. Birds, insects around the home, coffee plates, sandwiches, human hands, anything and everything he saw was sketched out to the most minute details. He was absurdly talented. You felt a bit of pride in being his friend.

At the back of the sketchbook were nude drawings. You blushed as your eyes raked over the lewd poses. Some genitalia was drawn, both male and female. The model’s body was contorted in all different poses, many sexual in nature. As you flipped the page, you were shocked to see actual sexual acts being performed. You had never heard of models that were willing to do this kind of thing. Although, Rohan had a lot of money and none of the sketches showed their faces. Except for one.

The sketchbook tumbled to the floor.

The face was yours.

Not once had he asked you to pose nude for him, but there you were. Your full body was on display. Leaned back over the edge of a sofa so that your hair dragged along the floor. One of your hands grasped your breast seductively while the other delved into your core. It was unmistakably you, down to the birthmark on your abdomen. You knew Rohan only drew from what was directly in front of him, so how in the world-

Rohan cleared his throat behind you, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. A devious look danced behind his eyes. He set down his satchel unceremoniously and closed the study door.

“I suppose this was bound to happen at some point,” Your heart raced as the lock clicked in place. Rohan slid off his gloves and threw them on the leather chair next to his satchel. Not once did he take his emerald eyes off of your now trembling form.

“I don’t understand,” You managed to say, though your voice was weak and nearly unintelligible.

“You wouldn’t,” Rohan chuckled darkly, “You’re much too stupid to put two and two together. Now, kneel.”

To your shock, your knees immediately hit the wooden floor.

“Heaven’s Door,” Rohan muttered, taking your face in his palms. Your whole body tensed and something like a book opened in your left cheek, “You know, this charade has been quite fun. I probably could have been happy to keep you as my perfect little pet forever. But, seeing you like this, seeing the genuine fear in your eyes, I’m starting to realize that your inability to remember our time together has honestly been quite boring,” He whipped out a pencil from his pocket and erased something from your pages.

All at once, everything came flooding back. The nights in your apartment where something, someone held you down while you sobbed, marking your body as their own. The way they flaunted your stolen underwear as they huffed it while fucking your breasts. Broken locks strewn to the floor as you screamed.

And at Rohan’s house, memories of him choking you until you complied with his demands, his thick cock stretching your throat. The unhinged glee in his eyes as he came all over your neck and chest. Images of your naked, trembling body on display as he drew you any way he wanted, even while being used by him.

Paralyzed by Rohan’s stand, all you could do was remember and weep.

“There we go,” He said, closing your pages and stepping back, admiring his work, “I even took out the clause that says you have to obey any orders I give,” A dark grin danced across his features, “Now, look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

You couldn’t. Not after the visions that played in your mind. Everything you had feared for months stood directly in front of you, taunting you. Pain erupted on the side of your head as Rohan twisted your hair around his fist and pulled you way from the side of the desk. He used that momentum to throw you to the floor and, immediately, he was on you, tearing off your clothes with practiced precision. Though you kicked and screamed, Rohan was deceptively strong. You cried out as he wrenched your arm painfully behind your back.

“Keep fighting me, and I’ll pop your arm out of its socket,” Despite his warning you continued to struggle, wriggling underneath him for any kind of opportunity to get the upper hand. He let out an exasperated sigh and tugged hard. You cried out as burning agony shot down your arm and the limb fell to your side with a thud, “You really think one would learn after the first twenty or so times. How did you even survive on your own for this long?”

With the rest of your clothing off, he moved his weight from you and ordered you to get back on your knees. Trembling, you acceded, forcing yourself up with your working arm to face him. You watched as he retrieved his sketchbook from the floor. He flipped through the pages with annoyance.

“Not many left. Ah, here’s a spot. Now…what do I need from you…” Rohan’s brow furrowed as he tapped his chin with a fountain pen and looked at your sobbing face. His lip curled in disgust, “Let’s put that mouth to use. Open up,” Your eyes met his and you silently pleaded for mercy. Images of him forcing his way past your lips flashed before you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to comply.

“I shouldn’t have to repeat myself,” Fury bubbled beneath Rohan’s calculated stare. After you continued to hesitate, he cupped his hand and put it to his ear, “What’s that? You’re begging me to paralyze you with my stand?” You shook your head furiously and opened your mouth for him, ashamed, “Good girl.”

Rohan walked over to you and unzipped his baggy trousers. With pen in hand, he fished out his half-hard member and let it hit your tongue. Fresh tears streamed down your cheeks. His thumb grazed your cheek, and for a moment you thought he might even take pity on you. He only smirked.

“Mess up my drawing, and I’ll throat-fuck you until you have to use a feeding tube,” Fear coursed through you as he started to draw, lightly thrusting his length along your tongue to allow it to fully harden. You barely breathed.

Minutes passed. Ten. Twenty. Rohan sketched the way his cock sat between your lips as if he were sketching a detailed flower. Nothing in his facial expressions betrayed the act in which he was participating. But he was certainly aroused. You fought back the urge to gag when salty pre-cum hit your tongue.

When he slapped the sketchbook closed, you jumped. The sick sense of security you felt while he was drawing melted, and terrified anticipation took its place.

“Get on all fours,” Reluctantly, you did as he said. He came up behind you and slid his hands along your inner thighs, “Spread your legs…Further,” Your face heated up with shame and rage as you felt him grasp the soft flesh of your behind. He toyed with it, massaging it and spreading it apart to examine your innermost parts.

“Wait!” You cried out as something prodded at your entrance. You lurched forward to escape him, but tumbled onto your dislocated shoulder. Rohan quickly caught your hips and dragged you back across the floor. A sharp slap resounded in the room as he reared back and spanked you as hard as he could, “Please, Rohan-”

“Please, Rohan,” He mocked, smacking you again, “Do you know how long I’ve kept myself from burying my cock inside of you?” Burning pain filled you as he thrust himself forward, plunging inside of you with his thick length. Your nails dug into the floor as you sobbed, begging him to stop.

His pace was instantly vicious, dizzying. It was painful, so incredibly painful, but your cries fell on deaf ears. He even chuckled as you writhed beneath him, trying desperately to get away. With a swift motion he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you to him so that your back stuck to his chest. His clammy hands enthusiastically grasped at your bouncing breasts.

“Don’t you wonder why…” He growled in your ear, rolling his hips against you, “…after all the ways I’ve taken you, why not here?” His hand moved from your chest to rub painful circles into your clit. His other hand slid up to your neck and gripped it so tightly that you could barely respond, “I don’t mean to sound sentimental, but I wanted you to remember it. A whore like you should be so lucky to be fucked by Rohan Kishibe.”

Finally, his thrusts slowed and he shifted the angle of your body. Though it was still painful, the new position allowed his dick to plant a cloying feeling deep within your core. Every time he penetrated you, it gave you pause. Combined with the more deliberate ministrations of his fingers on your clit, the realization dawned on you that you were dangerously close to orgasm. Your heart raced at the thought. You wanted to scream, but Rohan’s grip on your neck kept you near silent.

“Cum for me you little slut. I know exactly where your buttons are, so don’t try to fight it,” The world around you spun as lack of oxygen finally took its toll, and everything you had been fighting so hard to stop fell by the wayside. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, little pinpricks of light dancing in your vision as your body trembled. Rohan cackled psychotically and let you drop to the floor.

While you came down from your high, Rohan fucked you harder. Your knees rubbed the floor painfully as he took you, slamming his cock deep within you again and again and again. You had no energy to hold yourself up, especially with just one arm, and you let him have his way with you as you silently cried.

His own orgasm wasn’t far behind. To your absolute shock he pulled out of you, digging the nails of his left hand into your thigh as his right milked out semen all over the skin of your back.

As soon as he released every drop of cum, there was shuffling behind you. You dared to glance down to see that he immediately went to grab his sketchpad to draw your freshly marked body and abused hole. You didn’t even need to be told to stay still.

When he was finished, he flipped you over. You yelped in shock as he grabbed your foot and held it up to where he could see the bottom of it. Pain shot through you as he took his fountain pen and sliced into the sole of your foot, cutting a thin line.

“There,” he panted, dropping your leg, “You didn’t really think that was our first time, did you?” He cast a smug smile your direction as your face dropped, “That’s it, that’s the face! Hold still,” He picked up the book beside him and quickly outlined your pained expression. He grinned as his pen flew across the paper, absolutely unhinged. “Anyway, of course you believed me. The only person more gullible than you is that buffoon Josuke.”

“But…I saw everything…” Rohan let out a genuine cackle.

“You remember what I let you remember, you stupid bitch. Why would I pass up the chance to break you anew every single day? To let you think that I still had one more line left to cross? The raw emotion…that’s truly art,” You thought you had run your tears dry, but more just kept coming. A choked sob left your lips as you dared to look at the bottom of your foot. It was covered in scars, some fresher than others. There must have been hundreds. Little tick marks that denoted how Rohan had used you time and time and time again.

Before you could process everything that happened, before you could curl up into yourself and howl at the indignity, Heaven’s Door had you between its grubby little hands. Rohan himself sauntered over and scribbled something on your cheek.

“Now, why don’t you go wash your filthy little hole and go to bed?” Your mind went blank as the world around you fell away. Rohan called out to you as you mindlessly lifted yourself up to walk to the bathroom as he bid you.

“Sweet dreams, [Y/n].” *all original work is my intellectual property. do not edit or re-upload.

[coveredinbees]

I started writing another kathony thing. And it's... well... it's smutty as all hell, I'm not going to lie. It's an AU, and includes references to sex work in the regency period, male impotence, and a few creative swear words that would make your mother cry.

So I'm going to post a little teaser for my new fic under the cut, to spare those of you who are not particularly interested in that sort of thing.

"Duels and Duality"

Anthony Bridgerton was not a man that was used to frequenting bawdy houses. But, after a duelling injury leaves him feeling a little insecure in the bedroom, he decides to try his hand - and other parts - at Covent Garden's most exclusive establishment. It all appears to be for nought when he finds none of the ladies can peak his interest. Until he sees one exotic beauty from across the room...

Kate Sharma is not a lady of the night. She is, in fact, a destitute war widow and nurse struggling to make an honest living after the end of the Napoleonic War. But one evening, as she's tending to a broken wrist of Covent Garden's leading courtesan, she finds herself being propositioned by a handsome stranger. She can't deny the attraction, and she might even have been tempted to go with him, if he hadn't started waving a wad of money in front her face. Instead, however, she offers to do something else - to fix his lame leg, and rehabilitate him back into polite society.

Could this be the start of a beautiful friendship?"

Teaser under the cut:

For the second time that evening, it started to snow. This did not bode well for Anthony Bridgerton. As he had not been able to navigate his carriage through the narrow roads of Covent Garden, Anthony had to satisfy himself with limping along the iced-over cobbled streets until he found the place he was looking for. It was a less-than-ideal situation. There was something about the chill in the air that made the muscles around his old injury ache, and more than once he felt his right leg give way underneath him. If it hadn’t been for his walking stick, he would have keeled over entirely. Thankfully, it didn’t take too long for him to find the right place. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket with numbed fingers, checking the address there against the townhouse in front of him. Hind Close. Yes, this was definitely the place. Unfamiliar as he was with this part of town, it had taken him longer than usual to find where he was going, and it was only the cold bite of the January wind that meant he could make his slow journey without being accosted by anyone. This part of town was normally rife with pickpockets and drunkards, but unlike Anthony, any man, woman or child with a lick of sense was sitting indoors right now, huddling around a roaring fire. He sighed, dragging his lame leg up the steps of the townhouse. There were times in life when you didn’t realise you had done something stupid until it was too late. And then there were times when you were fully aware that you were in the middle of doing something stupid, but you carried on doing it any way. Even as he lifted the knocker on the nondescript townhouse, he realised that today fell into the latter category.

Knocking on the the door, he waited for a moment for someone to open it. Instead, the door remained firmly shut, and thick, cockney voice emanated from somewhere within.

“Wot’s the password?” The password? Damn. Benedict had told him this. Hang on. “Elysium.” He said. There was a moment of silence, and for one horrible moment Anthony thought they might turn him away. He desperately needed to rest his leg, and he wasn’t sure he could make it back through the winding streets of Covent Garden without assistance. But then there was a metallic thunk – the familiar sound of an iron deadbolt being pulled back, and then the door was opened. Anthony was met with a blast of warm air and the sweet scent of rose and lavender water wafting from inside. The man standing at the door was a wall of a man, with brutishly thick arms and a cauliflower ear. He wasn’t the sort of man Anthony had seen before, not even at Gentleman Jackson‘s boxing ring. This man, with his scarred face and non-too-inviting sneer, he was not like anyone Anthony had ever met before. Regardless, the man stepped aside and waited patiently while Anthony dragged himself through the door. Anthony didn’t wait to be invited. He collapsed onto a chair by the door, not even caring that he was leaving a trail of muddied snow behind him. As the doorman closed the front door behind him, he regarded Anthony with little interest. “Y’new then?” “Pardon?” “I said, are yer new 'ere, or what? I ain’t seen you round ‘ere before.”

No, Anthony supposed, he wouldn’t have. This was his first time at such an establishment.

“Yes. I suppose you could say I’m ‘new’.” The man grunted. “I’ll get Madame Charlotte then. She’ll sort yer out.” “Much obliged.” Quite against his will, Anthony felt his head fall back against the wall. He closed his eyes. God, his leg was throbbing. He already knew that this was a mistake, but there was quite literally no turning back now. At least, not until he’d had a chance to rest his leg and hopefully a dram or two for the pain. He opened his eyes lazily, watching as the great, hulking doorman disappeared behind a red curtain, presumably to find Madame Charlotte.

Anthony sighed. He was miles from home, and his footman had parked the carriage somewhere in the more respectable area of town. Even after he rested his leg, he would have a devil of a time walking back – especially if this snow kept up. But then, he supposed, wasn’t that the whole idea? In order for his plan to work, he had to go to a place where he wouldn’t be recognised. To be clear, despite Anthony’s rakish reputation he had never actually visited a bawdy house before. Or rather, perhaps he should say that he had never engaged the services of une femme galante before. All of Anthony’s previous dalliances – of which there had been many – had been with either divorced women or women of the stage. And yes, he’d kept a mistress or two in his time. And yes, he had spent more than his fair share of money on trinkets. But that was different. Those were gifts. There was something about the transactional nature of bawdy houses that didn’t really sit well with him. To Anthony, the whole point of pleasuring a woman was to, well… pleasure a woman. It had to be reciprocal, otherwise he didn’t see the fucking point.

Paying a woman to bed with you, well. It was a bit embarrassing really, wasn’t it?

And honestly, if Anthony had his way he certainly wouldn’t be sitting in a Bawdy House right now, if he had any other option. Anthony grimaced, rubbing his face with an ice-cold hand. So what was he doing here now?

Of course, he already knew the answer. He was here, because he was desperate.

You see, Anthony Bridgerton was not a man that was prone to misjudgement; but when he did misjudge something he did so spectacularly and with long-lasting effect. It was a misjudgement that led him to challenging Lord Carnarvon to a duel some three years previous after a particularly heavy night of drinking, and it was a misjudgement that led to him getting shot in the leg. If it wasn’t for his brother’s quick thinking, and for the skill of a particularly renowned surgeon, he most certainly would have died. Hell, he thought, sitting up in the chair and stretching his pained leg out in front of him, it was a damned miracle that he’d got to keep his leg at all. But as it was, there was a large, tennis-ball shaped indentation where his thigh muscle used to be, and it was visible even through the thick fabric of his britches. The dead tissue of his leg had been purposefully removed in a grotesquely painful procedure that the surgeon had called ‘debridement’. Anthony, feverishly out of his mind the entire time, remembered little of event except that it had involved applying maggots to the infected area. Maggots. Those damned maggots. He saw them in his dreams, even now.

So apart from being in near permanent pain all the time, Anthony was now grotesquely misshapen. His former lovers couldn’t even bear to look at him, let alone take him into their beds. And, Anthony thought, even if he could somehow persuade some poor, desperate woman into seduction, he was in near permanent agony. Although his wound had long since healed over, the muscles spasmed like the devil himself was twisting a knife in his leg, and the sorry fact of the matter was, (and in many ways, this was the worst part)…

The sorry fact of the matter was that the famous Viscount Bridgerton, (the society papers’ darling and the once the ton’s most sought-after bachelor), was now a disfigured monster that could go weeks at a time without even getting a fucking erection.

It was painful. No, it was more than painful – it was humiliating. He’d once been famous for his appetites, and sought-after for his skills as a lover. Now here he was in his late twenties, looking down at his stubbornly non-tumescent cock and wondering if the bullet wound hadn’t somehow nicked a muscle or a nerve or something that was integral to the most valuable part of his anatomy. For any man, not being able to get a cockstand would be bad enough, but for a man with a title – a Viscount no less, who regardless of his injury, was still somehow expected to marry, produce an heir and carry on the family name – why, it was the end of the world.

If his cock couldn’t work, well – he might as well sign the viscountcy over to Benedict right now.

Benedict had been none-too-pleased with that particular suggestion. Anthony knew his brother and had no interest in a title that had been earmarked for Anthony all his life, but he never appreciated how much of an aversion the man had to being the Viscount until he floated the idea past him one day. He’d never seen a man turn quite so pale. And so, without going into too much detail, Anthony had relayed to his brother the distressing news that his injury was preventing him from, ahem, partaking in his preferred activities, and somehow Benedict had managed to produce a copy of Harris’ List of Covent Garden Ladies with surprising alacrity.

So that was why he was here. Suddenly, he had seen the appeal of the transactional nature of bawdy houses. Perhaps if he could pay a woman enough, she would be willing to overlook his deformity. And it wasn’t like he was looking to fuck anyone – in fact, he didn’t rightly see how he could, the pain being the way it was - but he was sure that given the right woman, she could take him in hand, or maybe in her mouth, and try to breathe life back into his stubbornly flaccid cock. If he could get the damn thing working again, then at least that would be a step in the right direction.

So here he was. Hind Close. Which, according to Harris’ List of Covent Garden Ladies, housed the most exclusive and high-price cyprian beauties that money could buy. He had chosen this establishment firstly, because it was far from home and he didn’t want to be recognised by anyone, but also because the women here had a reputation for being choosey in their clientele. No man could walk up to these women and demand their services for a price; no, the woman had to agree. And allegedly, Hind Close’s books were so full and their clientele so numerous that the women here could afford to pick and choose their gentlemen.

As hideous as he was, he didn’t want to force himself on anyone – nor did he want a women to feel obligated to take his money and his body. He could make an offer here, and feel secure in the knowledge that the women would be able to say ‘no’ if his leg was too disgusting for them to bear.

Which, he thought sadly, they probably would.

[fnf-brain-rot]

[Whitty x Boyfriend]

Chapter 3 - He's dangerous

Pico didn't like the idea of Boyfriend going to see this mystery man, and his gut feeling would only be made worse if his idea of who the stranger was, was correct. He only usually closed himself off in his room when he's in deep thought, or when he's organizing business. Right now, it was the latter.

He couldn't stop thinking about Boyfriend's surprise visit. Why did he hesitate to tell his name? He wasn't stupid, he could tell the guy was lying, the only problem is without a name, he wasn't totally sure if this target was the same guy he was hanging out with. Lying down on his queen sized mattress, he sighed, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. He couldn't help but feel guilt for the plan he would come up with. He didn't like the idea of using his dear, close friend, especially since he quite liked him, but there's no other way to get the info out of him. Speaking of..

He heard a knock on his door. He quickly got up, put out his cigarette, and made his way down to answer. Of course, when he opened it, there stood Boyfriend, holding his beloved microphone. "Pi- oh! Sorry, am I bothering you?" The blue haired's face went red as he noticed Pico wasn't wearing a shirt. "Nope, you're just on time actually." Pico couldn't help but chuckle at the flustered male. "Come on, I'll make some tea." The ginger turned to retreat back into his house, and Boyfriend followed loosely behind him. He's seen Pico shirtless a lot, sure, but he still couldn't get used to seeing him like that. He wondered why. 

"So, you come bearing more news about this mystery man of yours?" Pico's voice echoed from his place in the kitchen. "Well.. Yes and no." Boyfriend made himself at home right on Pico's couch of course, kicking his legs up onto the cushions. Pico noticed he's been in such a happy-go-lucky mood ever since meeting this guy. He was starting to suspect he had a crush. "We haven't hung out recently. I just wanted to you know.. kick it with you for a bit." He stated with a grin. Pico rolled his eyes and returned to the living room, holding a cup of coffee and a cup of tea. "Gee, who's fault is that?" He teased, and Boyfriend sat up with a whine, allowing the ginger to sit next to him. "I'm sorry! It's just.. I just really feel for him you know?" Pico only nodded.

"You barely know him Bee." Pico reminded him. "But I bought him food! He ate it! All of it! Like.. Oh my god.. If you were there you would know how much he ate I ordered one of everything." Boyfriend shuddered a little. He was thankful for him finishing the food though. "With who's money?" Pico snorted, and Boyfriend pouted, almost dejectedly. "Gigi's." He answered honestly. "Well.. At least it sounded like you had fun." The ginger glanced away, taking a brisk sip of his black coffee. The bitter taste kept him awake. "I'd love for you to actually meet him this weekend." Boyfriend then spoke up. Pico blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected it to be handed to him like that. "This weekend? Wh- You could barely tell me his name yesterday." He set his cup down and crossed his arms. "I know! But I'll talk him into meeting you and Gigi and Nene and Darnell and the spooky boys!" The smaller male almost squealed in delight.

Pico didn't like the idea of his information being put out there to strangers-especially considering his reputation-but he guessed that was up to Boyfriend's innocence. Pico found it hard to stay mad at him. How could he? He sighed, looking the blue haired male up and down. "I.. guess it's fine. Just as long as he's not smelly, who knows where that guy's been lying around." He scrunched up his nose in distaste. Boyfriend grinned, thankful for Pico's blessing, then hugged him tightly, an action that made Pico's face go a slight shade of red. "Yeah yeah whatever, just.." He huffed in embarrassment, turning his head as Boyfriend buried his face into his chest. This blueberry had no sense of personal space, did he?

___________________________________________

Whitty hated to admit it, but he had been thinking about that shorty all day.

So much so, he ended up walking around the area they first met. He almost hadn't noticed his feet subconsciously leading him back to that alley. He only realised when he looked at his crude graffiti where he was, and had an immediate thought to flee but.. instead he sat against the wall. He couldn't help but get second hand embarrassment from the simple thought of his break down during their first battle. He looked down and took out a small phone that was gifted to him some time ago. During their afternoon binge yesterday-well his afternoon binge-he had gotten his phone number in case he needed to call or something. Of course, he wasn't planning on calling any time soon. He wasn't the type to ask for anything, but he was tempted to ask if they could hang out again today.

As he opened Boyfriend's contact, he paused, suddenly becoming aware of his surroundings. He set the phone in his pants pocket and stood back up. He could've sworn he heard movement...He stared intensely at the entrance to the alley way. It wasn't the sound of eager yet gentle foot steps by Boyfriend. It was definitely not friendly.

He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets. He was starting to take steps back with each sound he heard, only to see about three-four? About four figures make their way into the alley. He was trapped, he had no where to run. This alley was a dead end. "See boss? I told you he would be here!" A small, yet gritty voice exhoed along the walls, followed by a loud "shhh!" with another loud "shhh!!"

Whitty could recognise these voices. He's heard them before. In this same spot, weeks ago. They were part of some gang that was out for his bounty. He didn't bother to learn the name, all he knew was that everyone was an enemy. Well.. except for Boyfriend of course. "Whitty, right?" The tallest male stood to the front. His voice was just as gritty, and he had pale skin, straight brown hair and was wearing what seemed to be casual attire. In fact, all of them looked similar. The only intimidating thing to a normal person would be his demeanor and the fact he's above 5'10. Whitty, however, was no normal person. He was a target. By everyone.

___________________________________________

Boyfriend sighed happily, just leaving Pico's house. He left with some conflicted feelings, butterflies in his stomach, and red constantly plastered on his cheeks. Sure he thought he had a crush on Pico for a while now but.. He might have been distracted with Whitty. The way his body grew hot at every tiny touch Pico gave him. He can't even see the guy shirtless without becoming a flustered mess. He could tell something was up with Pico too. Maybe he should talk to him about it..

He decided to run and stop at his favorite cafe. He wished he could sit with Whitty in the place. He thought Whitty would like the decor inside. It's warm, quiet, and they give tasty snacks. Boyfriend smiled at the thought of Whitty. He wondered what he was doing. Taking care of himself he hoped. He should probably stop by that alley they first met in, check to see if he left anything there possibly. He did leave in a hurry. Maybe he left his favorite.. thing?? Okay, he'll admit, he had no real reason to go. He just kind of... wanted to think about the taller guy. That's fine, right?

___________________________________________

Whitty had been trying his best to stand his ground. His main advantage, and disadvantage, was his height. He found it hard to get back up after being knocked down, so the plan was to stay on his feet. "Why don't you scumbags fuck off somewhere?" The bomb man scoffed, feeling the heat in his head begin, and his fuse started to light. "And miss out on this opportunity? No. You're lucky we want to take you alive." All four of them advanced. They planned to rush him. Whitty's been in a tussle a couple of times, but never with more than two people. Their first plan was to surround him, and take him down that way. He tried to focus and not panic,  taking his hands out of his pockets and balling them into fists. They lit ablaze as if he were holding fire, and he turned around, throwing a punch at the guy to his left, catching them all by surprise. They honestly though he was the flight type.

"AH!! SHIT!" The male yelled in pain, but Whitty could care less. These guys were here supposedly to kidnap him or something. The other two goons went in, one grabbing his arm, thinking he could simply flip him over, and the other on his leg to catch him off balance. The big male stumbled, but forced himself to the side instead of on his back, pushing against the alley wall. He growled, an angry growl, before picking up the smaller guy on his leg by the neck. His hand seared the skin around his hold, and the other male tried to get him to drop him since he was practically cooking his throat.

The man who received the first punch finally recuperated, and dashed over to help. Shame, these three were gonna get killed by the hands of this thing. Everyone knows the leaders tend to make the smartest decisions. He's the leader right? This fight wasn't winnable with only four guys. Not with this big ass creature that seemed to become more and more unhinged with every second, almost as if he were taking pleasure in burning these men alive.

Whitty threw away the severely burned man and turned to the guy on his arm, who had tried to stab him with a needle, but the moment he touched the bare arm, it was like touching a burning stove. Whitty couldn't help but laugh, grabbing this man by the wrist with one hand, and catching the other by the arm as he tried to jump onto him. Yeah.. This is karma right? Their screams of pain, agony, they deserved more than to burn alive.

___________________________________________

Boyfriend was almost skipping down the sidewalk, but scrunched his nose at the smell of something burning. It seemed like it was coming right from where he was planning to go too. Was Whitty there? Granted it could just be a hobo using a fire to cook or something but... this was a different smelling burn. A smell he's never smelled before, and it formed a pit in his stomach, though he could never explain why.

He didn't rush popping his head around the corner. The sight made him pale, clamping a hand over his mouth.

Was that.. Whitty?

No way, had to be an evil twin or something..

No, it definitely was Whitty. He was crying.. and laughing? The burning smell was because of him. It was burning clothes, burning flesh. Two men were out on the ground, seeming to have accumulated severe burn wounds, singed clothing.. he almost thought they were dead. "You fucked with the wrong guy. Four dudes?? That's all you got?" He heard Whitty laugh. The laugh wasn't like any Boyfriend had heard. When he saw the man he was holding, he had to step in. "W-Whitty!" He choked, and Whitty stopped almost immediately. He stopped everything. He stopped crying. He stopped laughing. He was no longer heated. It was like his brain had to process what the fuck was going on, and he knew what it was when  Boyfriend hesitantly stepped within his radius. "Whitty.. Put him down." The blue haired male demanded in a shaky voice. He felt like he was gonna vomit. Whitty dropped the guy, then looked at his hands. There were burned things sticking to them.. Hopefully he wasn't looking at human flesh and blood.

"B.. B-Bee.." Whitty's hands began to tremble. His eyes went wide and the black, inky substance began to leak from his eyes again. He did it again. He.. he hurt people again.. "Oh.. fuck.." Whitty breathed out shakily, beginning to back away from the short male. Boyfriend didn't know how to react, but.. he could feel the remorse in Whitty's actions. He had a feeling Whitty wouldn't want him to see him like this. Not like.. a monster. "Whitty.. c.. c-calm down.." Boyfriend didn't let him scoot away too far, tugging on his jacket sleeve. "Don't! Stop!" Whitty exclaimed, causing Boyfriend to jump a bit. "You're not gonna hurt me. "

"You don't know that!"

"Yes I do." Boyfriend stared into Whitty's eyes with intent.

The bomb crouched down, allowing Boyfriend to give him a look of permission, then hug him. "It's.. It's okay, I'm sure you had a reason to." Boyfriend tried to comfort him, while Whitty began to mutter "I'm sorry" Over and over again. Boyfriend only shushed him, hugging the bomb shaped head in his arms. His fuse was short. He's glad he caught him before he exploded. "Let's get out of here, okay? Don't worry about these guys, I'll.. I'll handle it. For now, let's get you somewhere calmer." Boyfriend muttered softly as he pulled away. Whitty was surprised he could still look him in the eyes and not scowl. He nodded and stood straight. Boyfriend took his hand and led him out. He would simply call an ambulance for these guys. For now, he wouldn't allow Whitty to worry about any of it. They were gonna sit by a tree for the rest of the day.

[spookyboywhump]

YEAAHAHAHA PART ONE OF WREN’S BLINDING IS HERE

This got longer than I expected so the follow up will contain the aftermath >:3c I’ll be real I do not care if this is at all medically inaccurate, I’m sticking to it because I love it so much. This is in fact the canon timeline, I’ve decided this is canon and shall be that way from here on out

Word Count: 2,011

CW: EYE WHUMP. EYE TRAUMA. Pet whump, dehumanization, (nonsexual) noncon touching

***

 He had no way of knowing how that night would end. He had no way of knowing what his mistake would lead to, what one poorly thought out action would cause. He had no way of knowing, but he’d end up wishing so, so badly that he could’ve predicted the agony he’d be in by the end of the night. 

 He was tense with fear and anxiety after being separated from Zander. They were forced to follow Cain to one of those awful gatherings, several other owners and colleagues of his there. Zander had gotten led away by Vanessa, and Wren found himself alone, surrounded by a small group who seemed to take interest in him. He didn’t see Cain anywhere among them, he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing though. 

 “Don’t look so scared, pretty puppy.” One of the men said, crouching down to look at him. Wren instinctively tried to back away, though it was hard when he was sitting on his knees, he only ended up backing into one of the other men, who almost affectionately ruffled his hair. 

 “He looks more like a frightened rabbit than a dog.” He snickered, and Wren jerked away from him, glancing between the men fearfully. In the back of his mind he knew he was breaking a rule, he knew he was never allowed to pull away, but he couldn’t help it. Without Zander there to protect him, without Cain there to call them off, he was terrified. 

 “P-Please…” He whimpered, his voice cracking, though it only caused the men to laugh. The one who crouched down with him grabbed his face, tilting his head side to side.

 “I wonder how much Cain would want for you… the bastard probably has a high price but I think it would be worth it.”

 “You think he’s going to part with the pup? I hear he makes him good money, there’s no way he’d give him up.” 

 “Y-yeah, uh, m-my master doesn’t want t-to get rid of me…” He said, reaching a hand up to push the man’s hand away, though he’d barely touched him before the man had drawn back and slapped him, his head snapping to the side.

 “You’d better keep your hands to yourself, mutt.” He snarled, reminding Wren just how angry these people got over being touched. 

 “Aww, you made him angry.” The other man said, sounding amused. “How are you going to make up for it, hm puppy?”

 “I-I don’t…” He glanced around nervously, almost desperately searching for Zander. He didn’t know what he thought Zander could do, despite his best efforts things often ended poorly when he intervened, but still, his presence was safe and comforting, and right now, Wren needed that. He flinched when the man who had touched him grabbed his arm, getting to his feet and forcing Wren to do the same. He quickly scanned the room for a familiar face, Zander, Cain, even Vanessa or Nicholas would be welcome right now, anybody he knew who he could beg for help. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, a feeling like he had to run. 

 “If Cain hasn’t noticed your absence by now then he won’t notice if we sneak off for a little bit.” The man said, hand slipping down his arm to grab his wrist. He tried to pull him away from the small group, but Wren dug his heels into the floor, refusing to move.

 “I-I’m not going with you!” He snapped, trying to sound less scared than he felt. “I don’t-I don’t know you, a-and Cain- my master wouldn’t let you do this anyway!”

 “And your master doesn’t have to know as long as you keep your pretty little mouth shut. Now be a good boy and come on.” He pulled harder and Wren stumbled a few steps, only to pull back again, trying to keep from being dragged off. He was prepared this time, hand clenched into a fist, and when the man turned to snap at him, he swung. His fist hit him dead in the eye and he was finally let go of, stumbling back as the man swore in pain. It wasn’t like him, he knew that, and he knew he was in trouble so he had every intention to run, only to be grabbed by the collar and harshly yanked back by one of the other men. 

 “You shouldn’t have done that you little bitch.” The man he’d hit snarled, before Wren could throw up his arms to defend himself he was cracked across the face, falling to the floor as he was finally let go of. He was used to being attacked this way, instinctively trying to curl up to protect himself, but before he knew it he was being grabbed, forced onto his back and held down as the man straddled his waist.

 “S-stop!” He cried, breathing frantically. In a last ditch effort he tried to call for help, hoping to be heard over the growing crowd, but a hand was clapped over his mouth, quickly silencing him. He still struggled to get free but his arms were pinned at his side, rendering him completely helpless. 

 “Misbehaving pets have to be punished, you know that don’t you?” He said with a sadistic grin, Wren watching him with wide eyes. He hated how quickly these people flipped, how the smallest thing could make an annoyance into a threat. His instincts told him to defend himself to avoid the worst possible scenario but he knew it was a bad idea, he knew it couldn’t have ended any other way than this. 

 “What’re you going to do to him?” One of the men asked, sounding intrigued. “Give him a black eye to match the one you’re gonna have?” He snickered.

 “He’s a fighter, a black eye is nothing to him.” He said dismissively. “No, he needs something more… memorable, make sure he doesn’t make this mistake again.” He said. Wren cried out behind his hand, struggling and kicking his legs in frustration. 

 He was looking around frantically while they discussed what should be done to him, desperately looking for a familiar face. He wanted Zander, he knew he’d help but he was alone, completely at their mercy- and his one shred of hope came from the last place he expected. He never thought he’d be relieved to see Nicholas of all people, but he pushed through the crowd, coming to get a look at what was going on. He hated to ask Nicholas for anything, but he knew what he liked from him, and as he finally shook the man’s hand off his mouth, he gave it one try, a final attempt to escape this unscathed.

 “S-sir, sir please h-help me!” He cried, as pathetic as possible, hoping that looking at him with big, tear filled eyes would win him over. 

 “My, my, it looks like you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble, hm love?” He said. “I’d expect this from the mutt, but not from you.”

 “I-it was- It was an accident-“ He insisted, only to be interrupted by the man holding him down.

 “You little fucking liar, you know you did that on purpose!” He snapped at him, slapping his hand over his mouth again. 

 “And what’s going to be his punishment? Cain is a bit caught up with somebody right now but I don’t think he’ll mind if I give the okay.” He said casually.

 “I’m not sure yet, why? You got any suggestions?” He asked, and Nicholas seemed to think it over, taking a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his jacket pockets as he did so. 

 “You could beat him. Cane him maybe if you can find one on hand.” He said, holding a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it. He took a drag from it before continuing, “You could always whip him with a belt, or carve him up- I even have a knife with me if you need it. What exactly did he do to cause this again?”

 “He fucking hit me, the stupid fucking mutt.” He said bitterly.

 “Break his fingers then.” He said calmly, Wren’s breath hitching in his throat. “If you want to be creative, you could rip his nails off, but you may not have the tools for that just lying around.” He suggested, and Wren whined pathetically, tears already streaming down his face. The man seemed to be considering his options, Wren knew he wouldn’t like any of them but he certainly hoped for one of the easier ones. After a moment of studying Wren’s face, he looked up at Nicholas.

 “Your cigarette- give that to me.” He said, holding his hand out, and though he looked irritated at being ordered around, Nicholas obliged. Wren was almost relieved, he could handle a cigarette burn, even if it was on his face. “Right or left, puppy?” He asked him, taking his hand off his mouth. Frankly, Wren didn’t care which side of his face he burned, but seeing as he already had a scar on the right side of his face, he made his mind up quickly.

 “L-left…” He whimpered, taking a shuddering breath as he prepared for the burn- but he swore his heart stopped at the next words he said. 

 “You,” He said, directed to the other man who’d been harassing him, “Hold his eye open for me, will you?” 

 “W-wait- wait wh-what?!” He stammered, his eyes going wide as the other man knelt down. He tried to squeeze his eyes shut but he easily pried his left eye open, being as rough as possible in doing so. The man straddling him held his face still with one hand, the cigarette held in the other, and a sense of panic crashed over him like a wave. “N-no, no please, you can’t!” He cried. “I’m sorry- I’m sorry, I-I’ll do anything but-but please, don’t!” He begged, looking to Nicholas for help again. “S-sir, please- please don’t let him do this, I swear I’ll be good, I-I’ll do anything you ask, *please* stop this…” 

 “Oh love, I’d like to help you but then you wouldn’t learn your lesson now would you?” He said, faux sympathy in his voice only making Wren sicker, he cried out in frustration. He looked around frantically, all he saw was the smug looks of the men holding him down, and the fascinated and curious faces of the crowd that had gathered, drawn to the sight of an unruly mutt being punished.

 From his left eye, that would be the last thing he would see. 

 He didn’t take his time, there wasn’t an agonizing buildup, he quickly jabbed the hot end of the cigarette into Wren’s eye and the boy shrieked. He fought against the weight holding him down, his hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms until they bled, but the man just further ground the end of the cigarette into his eye, wringing more screams out of him.

 “S-stop stop stop please!” He shrieked. “H-help m-me, p-please some-someone help me!” He shouted, praying somebody would have mercy on him. He screamed it over and over again, begging for help until the man finally got off him and the other let go of his eyelids, but even without the crushing weight and the cigarette against his eye, the pain was still there, he brought his hands up to cover his eye as he curled up on the floor, shaking and sobbing as he listened to the murmurs of the crowd around him.

 Beneath all the pain he was hit by a familiar feeling, one that twisted him up inside and made him sick. It was just like the brand- it never should’ve happened, nothing this permanent should’ve happened to him, somebody should’ve helped him and they didn’t, a further reminder that he didn’t matter to these people, he was an animal, an object, and he’d be lucky if he ever made it out of here alive.

[hotcheri]

Always Something There to Remind Me (a Jen/Khalil Black Lightning fanfic)

by hotcheri © 2021

DISCLAIMER: I own none of the Black Lightning characters. They solely belong to DC Comics and the CW Network. This is just my take on what could have happened after the show ended.

Prologue

Khalil's POV

They were meditating when TC crept into Khalil's mindscape like a thief in the night.

Well, at least, Khalil was meditating. He loved to empty his mind of all thoughts and focus on his breathing, relishing the mental stillness and the sense of peace he didn't have in his normal life.

Painkiller sat to the side of the mental dojo like he always did whenever Khalil was centering himself, a mocking sneer twisting his lips up as Khalil tried to ignore the rage that was baking off his mind twin like a rabid fever.

Painkiller was always angry, and the people he was mostly enraged at were the Pierces. Jen, to be exact. They lived in Painkiller's head rent free, and since Khalil shared the same mind as him, and almost all of his thoughts, the image of Jen was never far from Khalil. Pain in the ass Jen, who also happened to be Khalil's first love. What a mind fuck to love someone with all your heart while part of you needed to kill her and was in pure agony every second she was alive. Khalil didn't need anyone to tell him about mind fucks, having Painkiller relentlessly prowling through his mind was more than enough.

Every time TC appeared in Khalil's mindscape, Painkiller leapt up from his seat and started pacing back and forth in a tight little line like a tiger stalking its prey, hands clasped behind his back, nostrils flared, glaring at TC as if he wanted nothing more than to boot him out of his head after savaging him a little.

Too bad it's our head, and I'm trying to hear what he has to say.

The thought flitted through Khalil's mind grimly, and he sucked in a breath before opening his eyes and gazing at TC, who kept shooting quick little fearful glances at Painkiller. Khalil knew how he felt. Until he had started working actively with Painkiller, forcing the duality in his brain to coexist, he'd been terrified of him too.

"Uh, hi guys," TC started, his voice trembling as he looked around for exit points even though all he had to do was break the connection with the chip in Khalil's brain if he wanted to leave. Khalil supposed when someone entered a room and found themselves face to face with Painkiller, even if it was a virtual reality room, that person could get very scared very fast. In cases like that, logic was the first thing to escape.

Khalil liked the kid, had liked him even before he had locked Painkiller behind a firewall in his head and had shown Jen how to coax Khalil out of the safe space he'd created in his mind. Khalil knew without a doubt that the Pierces, especially Anissa, would have taken him out after Jen had blasted him with lightning to ward off Painkiller's attack on her family as he tried to complete the kill directive, because that's exactly what he would have done.

But TC had done the inconceivable. He'd managed to read Khalil's real thoughts, thoughts that had somehow filtered through the Painkiller operating system as soon as he set eyes on Jen. Thoughts that he must have been hiding way down in his secret heart, feelings that must have survived the A.S.A. mindwipe that transformed him into a lean, mean, biological weapon. As he lay prone on the table in Gambi's work station, on the verge of unconsciousness, his sharp ears had listened as TC, a total stranger, had his back.

"Hey. Who's Jen?" TC had interrupted the post fight argument, glancing around at the faces of people he didn't know.

Impatiently, with the touch of heat that Khalil loved and had missed with a sudden depth of emotion he hadn't felt since he was just track star Khalil, and not two warring parts of a government weapon whole, Jen replied, "That's me."

"He loves you."

And Jen's suddenly shaky, tear-filled voice had whispered, "How do you know that?"

TC's answer had been simple. "He told me."

Yeah, TC was good people. And even though the reunion between Khalil and Jen hadn't lasted, even though it had been bittersweet and doomed to fail with a painful, brusque ending, for a short, sweet time, he had been happy again.

But there was no use in thinking about that, no use in brooding over something he couldn't fix. With Painkiller in his head, being with Jen wasn't an option.

Painkiller was the first to talk, stepping forward as TC gave Khalil a half-hearted wave. "Oh, you must be crazy bringin' your ass here," he growled out in his distorted, angry voice.

TC took an involuntary step back, wringing his hands. Khalil could feel the fear in the kid increase as Painkiller stopped inches from his face, glowering down at him.

Raising a hand, Khalil talked to Painkiller like a patient parent calming down a tantrum throwing toddler. "I invited him," he lied, not caring that Painkiller would know that he hadn't.

Sharing his mind with a psychopathic, heartless killer sucked all the time, and keeping secrets was nearly impossible. Painkiller knew he was claustrophobic, that he loved trains, and that he thought about the one that got away daily. But when it came to people Khalil cared for, he didn't give a fuck if Painkiller knew he was lying to protect them from his rage. TC was a friend, and he wasn't going to let Painkiller's angry ass intimidate him.

"Don't think I won't kick your ass, too," Painkiller growled. Khalil fixed him with a steady look. He'd won more fights against Painkiller, especially after his return after a year long silence, and Painkiller knew it. After a few seconds, Painkiller sucked his teeth and resumed scowling at TC.

Spreading his arms out placatingly, TC asked, "What if I come with good and great news?"

A curious expression darted across Painkiller's face. Khalil caught it and grinned to himself. Psychotic or not, everyone liked the idea of good news.

"Speak," Painkiller ground out.

Swallowing nervously, TC said, "Tobias Whale is dead."

Okay, that was unexpected, and so was the rush of relief that coursed through Khalil's body, relaxing muscles that had been tense ever since he had started working for Tobias. Even though the A.S.A. mindwipe had taken all his memories and locked them away, they had been retrieved as soon as TC had put the firewall in his head, and so too had the underlying current of fear that always pulsed whenever he thought of Tobias.

And now his former boss, the man who had ripped out his spine and dumped him on the church steps when he was done with him, the evil torturer who had been responsible for leading Khalil over to the dark side was finally dead. Closing his eyes, Khalil sent up a prayer of thanks to a God he no longer strictly believed in.

Even after becoming Agent Odell's  chief asset, Khalil still harbored thoughts that Tobias would come to him, eager to finish what he had started, wanting revenge for Syonide's death, the attempted robbery at the club before Khalil and Jen became runaways, and every single other thing he'd done that had pissed Tobias off. He'd reluctantly come to believe that a showdown with Tobias was inevitable, and even though his road to atonement had led him to Akashic Valley and a new life, he always knew that Tobias would eventually come for him. It was in his nature. But now this piece of good news had been thrown into his lap and Khalil took a moment to bask in gratitude.

Painkiller's reaction was the polar opposite of Khalil's restrained joy. Anger blazed onto his face and his brow creased as he listened to TC give Khalil the best news he'd heard in a while.

Sounding like a petulant child after being asked if he had McDonald's money, Painkiller groaned. "Damn. I wanted to kill him." He fisted both hands into his unruly curls and glowering up at the ceiling. "That's not good news." Turning to Khalil, his voice turned wheedling. "Let me kick his ass just a little."

With a quick glance towards Painkiller, TC cleared his throat before dropping his bombshell. "I've isolated the system code for the kill order. I can free you."

TC backed away till his back was against the wall, as far as he could get from a snarling Painkiller. When he got furious, Painkiller acted just like a wolf ready to attack. Luckily, Khalil had him on a mental leash. Ignoring him, Khalil focused his attention on TC.

"TC, what is your other news?"

Khalil let out a shaky breath, a glimmer of hope blooming in his chest.

At last.

"Good." Both TC and Khalil turned to face Painkiller, who had a look on his face so unnatural that Khalil didn't immediately recognize it. He looked like a doomed man seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Is he...is he happy? "Let's do it."

"But there's a catch," TC started slowly, plucking nervously at his sleeve as his eyes slid from Khalil to Painkiller and back again. Khalil sighed, motioning to TC to continue. There was always a catch and he knew that better than anybody, but for a second he had allowed himself to believe that getting rid of the kill order that brought such pain to both Painkiller and him, finally being freed from the chains that the A.S.A had wound around his body and in his mind, was ripe for the taking, with no blowback. "It's linked to everything you know and love about the whole Pierce family. If you break the kill order, you won't remember the Pierces at all."

The breath went out of Khalil all at once, leaving him feeling weak and boneless. He was glad he was sitting down, because if he had been standing when TC spoke, the strength would have ran out of his legs. And even though this was all in his mind, his physical body had stopped breathing for a second, and he felt his heart skip a beat.

This wasn't a catch, it was a fucking dilemma. There had to be another way.

Chewing on his bottom lip, Khalil found himself thinking about the technology he and Painkiller had found in Maya's safe house. Surely there was something there that would help isolate the kill switch without messing with his memories more than they'd already been messed with? Because this alternative that TC was suggesting... it wasn't fair. After leaving Freeland to keep Jen and her family safe and away from him, hell, after saving Anissa's wife from kidnappers, after everything that had happened in Khalil's life to get him to this point in time, losing the only good memories he had left just plain wrong.

"So what?" Painkiller asked, his top lip turned up into a snarl. Whether he was oblivious to the wave of emotion Khalil was weathering, or if he just didn't care, Khalil didn't know. Painkiller knew what he wanted. He was tired of the agony that came with not fulfilling the kill order. "They're pains in the ass anyway!"

In a chillingly calm voice that brooked no argument, Khalil stared evenly at Painkiller and said, "Shut up and sit your black ass down." Shocked into obedience, Painkiller sank down to the floor as Khalil looked at TC, a pleading tone in his voice. "TC, there's got to be another way around."

"There's none." Khalil could hear the despair in TC's voice, and he knew he was telling the truth. Of course he was. "I've checked and I've double checked."

Painkiller was still silent, and Khalil turned to look at him. "Damn!" He clenched his fist so hard that the veins in his arm popped out, but he took no notice. "You won't stop, will you? Sooner or later you're going to kill Jen and the rest of the Pierces."

Nodding sagely, like he had been the one meditating, Painkiller said, "Best believe. But I'm not nobody's puppy." He pointed at Khalil, his face stern and absolutely serious. "Cut the damn cord."

The muscles in Khalil's jaw worked as he stood up, turning his back on TC and Painkiller so that they couldn't see the emotions playing across his face. He wanted to be free of the kill code more than anything, needed Painkiller to be at rest so that he could figure out a way to become whole again. But the cost- losing Jen again- was it just too great?

Khalil closed his eyes, and suddenly, he was back on the Pierce's roof with Jen after Painkiller had broken free of the firewall for a couple of nasty minutes to wrap his hands around Jen's neck. He could feel everything in that moment, the wind brushing lightly against his face, the shingles of the roof under his sneakers, the terrified look Jen shot him before schooling her features into a coolness Khalil had never seen on her face. Both looks hit him like a ton of bricks.

She was scared of him.

Painkiller had shown her his true colors and had, once again, pushed someone he loved away from him. And what she had said had chilled him to the core, a sudden lump rising in his throat, and tears smarting in his eyes as she let him go.

"I can't love a weapon that's pointed at my family, even if it does have a soul." Her shoulders hunched pitifully as she wrapped her arms around her legs, all at once seeming far younger than her years. "See you around, Khalil."

He took one last look at her, her curly hair brushing past her chin, her eyes chilly and flinty in the dusk as she turned away from him, blinking away tears of her own. "No. You won't," he said, and with that, he had exited Jen's life.

Some things you can't go back to. The way Jen had ended things between them still hurt, and the realization that he wasn't going to be able to salvage things with her caused him pain that was almost physical, but if TC was able to isolate the kill code and erase his memories of her, the pain would go. All the pain would disappear, and his fresh start in Akashic Valley would be just that, a fresh start.

Behind him, TC started to say, "If you need more time, I can-," but by now, Khalil's mind was made up. There was no other choice.

"I always known I'd give my life for that girl." Khalil heaved a sad sigh, running a hand over his face as he turned to look at a nervous TC and an impassive Painkiller. Painkiller smirked, knowing what decision Khalil had made, and in that moment, Khalil hated him, the A.S.A., Odell- everyone who had gotten him into this situation. Especially himself. "Never thought I'd have to forget her." A nod towards TC. "Do it."

TC nodded dumbly, just as another thought flitted into Khalil's mind. If TC was able to isolate the kill code and erase some of his memories, wasn't it possible that he could remove his very worst memory?

Before he left Freeland for good after shooting Odell and letting Black Lightning deal with the evil son of a bitch however he saw fit, Khalil took a detour to the cemetery, picking a bunch of blooming flowers from the ramshackle garden of Mrs. Sutton, the Payne's old landlady. Khalil didn't think she would mind, she had loved Nichelle Payne dearly.

Once at the cemetery, he had laid the flowers on his mother's grave, sat down with his back resting against her tombstone and cried a little. Nobody had been around to see him; Freeland residents weren't crazy about going to the graveyard at nighttime.

"I shot the guy who made me kill you, ma," he'd whispered, his words blown away by the breeze as the tears blurred his vision. "I know you always said vengeance never pays, but I had to do it. I'm sorry, ma. I love you, and I'm so, so sorry."

Nichelle Payne had raised him to be the best in whatever he did, and what had he done in return? Snapped her neck, and the best excuse he could come up with was he'd just been following orders. The knowledge weighed heavily on his soul, and he knew that he would pay for it in time. Everything comes due. But if TC could somehow make him forget...

"I can try," TC said doubtfully, and Khalil raised his eyes from his clenched fists, remembering where he was through the sadness that engulfed his soul.

"No." Khalil shook his head, resigning himself to reality. "It's part of who I am, and I need to find redemption for it, or a way to live with myself."

TC opened his mouth and hesitated before shyly asking, "Do you want to- I mean, I could give you Jen's number and you could talk to her one last time?"

Painkiller groaned, storming around the circumference of the dojo angrily. "Can we fucking do this already? No more flashbacks, no phone calls- get this kill order the fuck out of my head!"

"Our head," Khalil reminded him. "And right now, I'm in charge." He bit his lip, wrestling with himself. Saying goodbye to Jen wouldn't make things better, it would just bring home the truth that he would never see his first girlfriend again, and even if by some weird coincidence he did, he wouldn't know her. It was stupid. They already said their goodbyes on the Pierce roof, what would he gain from this? "What's her number?"

Painkiller actually growled at this and stomped off somewhere. Khalil could still feel him burning in his mind, but it looked like he had opted out of being a part of Khalil's final goodbye. Not that Khalil minded in the least. Before Painkiller, his relationship with Jen had been special. He didn't want his insane mind twin tainting the very last moment he would have with her.

Courteously, TC severed the connection with Khalil's brain chip, promising to return when the phone call was over and start the process. Khalil stared down at his phone and punched in Jen's number before he could lose his cool. Meditation seemed like a lifetime away, it was all he could do to keep his heart from galloping away like a war horse.

Jen's phone rang once, twice, three times, and Khalil was just about to hit the end button when suddenly-

"Hi." Jen's bold, brash voice was in his ear, and Khalil forgot to breathe. The background noise was filled with laughter and music, a noise that Khalil associated with family time, even though he was never fortunate enough to have enjoyed family time with his mother working two jobs, his father in jail, and his brother running the streets with the 100. "You know you're calling from a- Anissa, stop!" Khalil closed his eyes, savoring the sound of Jen's hearty giggles as someone- Anissa, probably- tickled her or something similar. "You're calling from a private number, who is this?"

A male chuckle sounded, and Khalil recognized Gambi's voice sounding from the distance. "Probably a scam, hang up before they get all your info."

Same old Gambi, trusting nobody. A wistful smile turned up Khalil's lips, but he still couldn't come up with a thing to say. It was like all his thought circuits were down, and he wondered if Painkiller had something to do with it.

"Helloooo? Who is this?" Jen's voice turned speculative, and she gave a derisive snort. "This better not be TC playing with me again, how many times do I have to tell you I'm not going to prom wit' you?"

"I'm literally right here," TC protested in the background.

And Khalil found that he couldn't bring himself to say anything, let alone goodbye. He wasn't great with goodbyes, anyway, so who was he fooling? "Uh, sorry," he muttered. Why had he thought this would be a good idea again? "Wrong number."

In the few seconds it took for him to press the end call button, Jen's voice sharpened with recognition and she exclaimed, "Wait, that sounds a little like-."

Call ended blinked up at him from his phone screen as his pulse jumped in his throat. Safe getaway. Of course, he'd ended the call before Jen could say his name, or even more hurtful, the name of somebody else.

But fuck, hearing her voice was bittersweet.

"You hung up?" TC was back in his head, eyes gleaming with relief that Painkiller wasn't around.

Nodding, Khalil strove to keep his face blank and impassive. "Yeah. I'd rather remember her the way she was on that phone, happy, carefree, pain in the ass J."

She sounded happy and normal, like the old her, before the 100 had kidnapped her and she had discovered she had powers. She sounded like the Queen of Garfield. By coming back into her life even for a few seconds, he might jeopardize that happiness, and if there's one thing he wanted her to be after the events of the past few years, it was at peace and she wasn't going to find it with him.

"But you didn't get to say goodbye."

Pity was written all across TC's face, and once again, Khalil felt the wave of sadness engulf him. Did it ever stop? Even with his memories of Jen gone, would he really be at peace?

"I didn't need to." Khalil stopped, his shoulders slumped, and came to stand next to TC, who was still looking at him with that sympathetic look on his face. "TC..."

Looking up at him, TC said, "Yeah?"

"Don't tell her."

TC let out a dramatic gasp that made Khalil crack a smile, even though he had never felt less like smiling. "What? But I was just about to-?"

"No." Khalil shook his head resolutely. "Let her live her life." TC opened his mouth to protest, but Khalil talked over him. It was the only way. "You told me she lost the guy she was seeing, and she's already lost so much. Just- let her think what she's been thinking, that I left Freeland to live my life." He started pacing like Painkiller sometimes did, back and forth, his arms behind his back as he spoke. It felt like atoning for his sins. "I poisoned her. I almost killed her."

Interrupting, his voice utterly horrified, TC exclaimed, "That was Painkiller, not you!"

"Yeah, but don't you get it? He's in me, so even if I know that I'm not the one doing the poisoning, everyone else thinks it, because he's in my head wanting to kill all the time." Khalil stopped pacing and turned to TC, his face serious. "With the kill code gone, we can co-exist without the anger and rage that drives Painkiller. I came here for a fresh start and removing the memories of the Pierces will give me that." To show that he meant business, he clapped his hands together. "Let's do this. How's it gonna work?"

Getting back to business removed the pity from TC's face, and Khalil was glad. Seeing that look on his normally cheery friends face and knowing it was directed at him made him feel like even more of a shitty person.

Tapping his chin, Khalil asked, "So I won't remember that they're metas as well?"

"You'll forget about them. Anything related to them, too."

TC's eyes started to flash green as he went over the logistics of changing Khalil's life.

"No, you'll remember that, you'll know about Black Lightning, Thunder and Lightning, you just won't know their identities. You won't remember they're Pierces."

Nodding, Khalil said, "Got it." Actually, it sounded confusing to him, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it. "But if I want to reinstate my memories, can't I just come to you and-."

TC laughed as Khalil made a casual popping noise with his tongue in his cheek. "No. You won't even know that your memories are gone."

"And you're sure they'll stay gone."

This was the most important part. What ifs ran through Khalil's mind with the speed of a Formula One car. If he somehow ran into the Pierce sisters on vacation. If he helped someone from a mugger and it turned out to be Doctor Pierce? If Black Lightning ended up in Akashic Valley like Anissa had and they ran into each other?

Shifting from one foot to the other, TC said, "Um, 90% sure."

"90?" Khalil asked incredulously.

TC shrugged. "That's an A."

"I used to get straight A's in school," Khalil said musingly. "And then Odell dropped a few Master's degrees into my head, but that happened after I stopped caring about grades." TC gave him a confused, yet concerned look, and Khalil said, "Let's get rid of these memories."

A few minutes later, Khalil was lying on an operating table, a brain scanner that looked like a crown on his head. Philky just happened to have one lying around, which was pure Philky, and after TC had uploaded his program into the lab's computer, he'd told Khalil's master of tech exactly what to do. Donald was on standby in case something went wrong medically. And Painkiller? He was still in the dojo, and Khalil could feel the excitement thrumming through him. Khalil didn't blame him; he was excited too.

A high-pitched whine started up, and Khalil felt a pinprick of electricity tickle his forehead as the process started. TC had warned him about this.

What TC hadn't warned him about was, as the memories left, they replayed in his head, almost like a flashback reel.

Khalil saw himself on the Pierce roof with Jen, giving her a chaste, shy kiss as she agreed to be his girlfriend.

He saw himself stealing into Garfield High and meeting up with Jen by the lockers after enduring more abuse from Tobias, knowing that she was the only person he could really talk to despite what had gone down between them. Sitting down in silence, not needing to say a word because their connection was that powerful.

He saw them running away together, Jen using her lightning powers in front of him for the first time and blasting the 100 hoodlums. How he'd kissed her later on and it had been electric, and the hottest kiss he'd ever had.

He saw himself (the memories were blurry around the edges, soon they'd be gone but so would the kill code, it was for the best but it hurt, TC didn't say it would hurt this much) sitting next to Jen in his special place, his private place, his favorite place, the abandoned subway car, eating ramen and reminiscing on how he had asked her to be his girlfriend, and he had been so shy when he gave her the necklace, something that had caught his eye in Freeland's jewelry store and he'd saved up for two months to buy it for her, a necklace he was giving to her for the second time because he loved her, and he'd lost her once and wasn't about to let her go again and...

The memories faded as Khalil's mind cycled through the deepest, darkest levels of consciousness, and there was only darkness, and finally, blissfully, peace.

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